


Darkling

by Lady_of_Moon_Over_Silver_Seas



Series: From Darkness [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Harry, Abused Harry Potter, Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Adopted Harry Potter, Adoption, Adoption Ritual, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Alternate Universe - Hannibal (TV) Fusion, Arsehole! Dumbledore, Assassin Cassiopeia, Assassin Cassiopeia Black, Asshole Dumbledore, BAMF Narcissa Black Malfoy, Bad Puns, Bad Therapy, Bigot Hermione Granger, Bigotry & Prejudice, Black Hermione Granger, Black Madness, Blackmail, Blood Adoption, Blood Adoptions, Brother Wands, But also, Cannibal Hannibal, Cannibalism, Cannibalism Puns, Canon Cannibalism, Canonical Child Abuse, Cassiopeia Black is the Left Hand, Cassiopeia is the Left Hand, Character Bashing, Child Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Cunning Harry Potter, Curious Hannibal, Curious Hannibal Lecter, Curious Severus Snape, Dark Hannibal Lecter, Dark Harry, Dark Harry Potter, Death Eaters, Discussions of Murder, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Draco Malfoy Speaks French, Eastern Siberian Eagle-Owl, Eidetic Draco, Eidetic Draco Malfoy, Eidetic Memory Draco, Eidetic Memory Draco Malfoy, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Espionage, Evil owl, ExAuror Will Graham, F/M, Family Magics, Flashbacks, For a given value of Good, Foul Language, Français | French, Fraud, Good Lucius Malfoy, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Gryffindor Harry, Gryffindor Harry Potter, Hagrid Bashing, Half-Blood Will Graham, Hannibal Being Hannibal, Hannibal Lecter Being Hannibal Lecter, Hannibal Lecter Being an Asshole, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Hannibal is Count Lecter, Hannibal is Hannibal, Hannibal is Harry's Cousin, Hannibal is a Squib, Hannibal is a Terrible Psychologist, Hannibal the Cannibal, Harry Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Harry Potter Changes His Name, Harry Potter Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Harry Potter Speaks Greek, Harry Potter Speaks Russian, Harry Potter is Haerviu Vasileios, Harry Potter is Hannibal Lecter's Nephew, Harry Potter is Hannibal's Nephew, Harry Potter is Heir Potter, Harry Potter is Not a Horcrux, Harry Potter is a Brat, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Harry Potter is a Little Shit, Harry Potter is the Heir to the House of Black, Harry Potter was Adopted by Other(s), Harry is a Little Shit, Harry is not Light, Healing Coma, Heir Gryffindor Harry Potter, Heir Ollivander Draco Malfoy, Heir of Slytherin Harry Potter, Hermione Granger Bashing, Hogwarts First Year, Horcruxes, Illegal Magic, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Intelligent Draco Malfoy, Intelligent Harry Potter, Intelligent Theodore Nott, Intelligent Weasley Twins, Intersex Metamorphagi, Lady Magic - Freeform, Left Hand - Freeform, Left Hand Cassiopeia Black, Left Hand of the House of Black, Legilimens Will Graham, Letters, Logical Harry Potter, M/M, Made-Up Religious Rites, Magical Synchronicity, Magical Will Graham, Magically Sensitive Draco Malfoy, Manipulation, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Manipulative Hannibal Lecter, Manipulative Harry, Manipulative Harry Potter, Masks, Mentor Cassiopeia Black, Metamorphmagus Harry Potter, Mind Palace, Molly Weasley Bashing, Moral Ambiguity, Morally Ambiguous Character, Murder, Natural Legilimens Will Graham, Necromancy, Nice Draco Malfoy, Nice Malfoy Family (Harry Potter), Nice Narcissa Black Malfoy, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Nordic Theodore Nott, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Occlumens Hannibal Lecter, Occlumens Harry Potter, Ollivander being Ollivander, Order of the Phoenix Bashing (Harry Potter), Other, Pansexual Character, Pansexual Harry Potter, Parselmouth Harry Potter, Parseltongue, Past, Past Child Abuse, Past Drug Use, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Paternal Hannibal, Paternal Hannibal Lecter, Paternal Lucius Malfoy, Perfect Memory, Physical Abuse, Plotting, Polite Neville Longbottom, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Powerful Harry, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Protective Hannibal Lecter, Protective Weasley Twins, Psychopath Harry Potter, Quidditch, Rapist Vernon Dursley, Rare Owls, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Rich Harry, Rich Harry Potter, Rituals, Ron Weasley Bashing, Rude Hermione Granger, Rude Ron Weasley, Sane Wendigos, Sapiosexual Harry Potter, Scary Harry Potter, Selfish Ron Weasley, Severus Snape is Lord Prince, Sexual Abuse, Sexually Abused Harry Potter, Sexually Abusive Vernon Dursley, Shrewd Susan Bones, Shrewd Theodore Nott, Slow Burn, Slow Burn Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Slytherin Draco Malfoy, Smart Harry, Smart Harry Potter, Snape is Draco's godfather, Sneaky Harry Potter, Socially Oblivious Hermione Granger, Sociopath Tom Riddle, Some Real Religious Practices, Spy Cassiopeia, Spy Cassiopeia Black, St Mungo's Hospital, Swearing, Symbolism, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Uncle Hannibal Lecter, Underage Rape/Non-con, Verreaux's Eagle-Owl, Victim Blaming, Wand Theory, Wealth, Wealthy Harry, Wealthy Harry Potter, Wendigo, Wendigo Hannibal, Wendigo Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham is a Graves, Wizard Will Graham, eidetic memory, gemology, google translate, pre-hannigram, psychopath bonding, rated for future violence, sexually abused Harry, slow burn hannigram
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2019-12-30 09:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 71
Words: 74,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18312443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_of_Moon_Over_Silver_Seas/pseuds/Lady_of_Moon_Over_Silver_Seas
Summary: What if Harry's childhood had more of an effect than in canon? Tom Riddle may have been a Sociopath, but what would happen if Harry combined in truth with the Horcrux? Would he rise above the torture Dumbledore condemned him to? Or would he reveal why exactly it is that the Psychopath is more feared? After all, it takes one to know one.How about if the Chesapeake Ripper took a hand in his rearing? Would he still be the Boy Who Lived, or would he be something deadlier?





	1. Letter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rowenasheir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowenasheir/gifts).



Freak peered out through the vent of its cupboard, watching in mild interest as Aunt collected the mail from the mat. She sorted through it absently as she wandered back to the dining room where Uncle and Cousin were devouring their breakfast, only to let out a piercing shriek at the sight of one especially formal looking letter.

 

Uncle rushed out to check on her, “Pet! What’d the little freak do this time?”

He started towards the cupboard, only to halt in his tracks as she grabbed one meaty wrist, passing him the letter in her hands, “What do we do Vernon? We can’t let it bring _that_ back into our home! But if we don’t send it they’ll send someone to collect it… that letter it came with said they’d be back for it eventually.” Hidden in the cupboard, Freak’s eyes narrowed.

Uncle patted her on the arm uncomfortably, “It’s not like they can complain. We treated it exactly as they asked us to.”  
“You’re right.” Petunia straightened up, “But just to be safe, how about we wait ‘til it’s gone, then set up the shed for it. That way it can’t expose our Duddikins to any more of its freakishness, and we’ll still get the money for housing it. In the meantime, I’ll send a reply accepting its place and asking for a guide. After all, it’s not as if decent people like us should have to escort it to that freakish place.”

Freak watched as the two of them returned to where their pig of a son was still stuffing his face, allowing a slow smirk to crawl its way across its face. _‘So, I’m leaving, am I? And they’re being paid to house me? Interesting.’_ The emaciated boy closed poison green eyes and curled back up on his ragged mattress to try and return to sleep, in hopes it would quiet his aching stomach.


	2. The Leaky Cauldron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freak is escorted to The Leaky Cauldron to begin his school shopping, where something curious takes place.

The next morning Freak was woken up by a rattling bang to its cupboard door. Aunt ripped the door open, and dragged it out by its ear, and shoved it in the direction of the stairs, pushing a clean set of Dudley’s old clothes into its arm in the process. “Go wash up. Then come to the kitchen.” Freak gave a long slow blink, but moved to follow her orders, earning himself a hard shove to its back when it didn’t move fast enough.

 

Freak locked itself in the bathroom, and stared around in bemusement, before stripping off its rags and slowly moving its aching body to the shower and beginning to wash off the detritus of the last week spent locked in its cupboard. It stared in absent curiosity at the reddish-brown liquid pooling down the drain and ignored the pain of the water on the welts littering its scared back. It eventually emerged from beneath the cold water, and carefully dried itself off, before donning its ‘school’ clothes in place of the ragged bits of cloth which it carefully collected into a bundle in its arms.

 

It moved slowly down the hallway, its feet clad in oversized socks stepping quietly so as not to wake Uncle. As it passed the cupboard, it quietly opened the door, and stashed its rags within, removing its battered glasses from where they lay on the shelf to one side of the door. It moved to the kitchen and waited for Aunt to notice it where it stood in the doorway. She grabbed it by the shoulder and dragged it to a chair she’d set in the middle of the floor. “Stay still, or I’ll go get Vernon.” Freak froze in position and didn’t respond. Aunt gave a huff of approval and picked up a large pair of scissors from where they sat on the table in front of her. Freak tensed and tried not to breathe, remembering the punishment it had received the last time it had its hair cut. Aunt grabbed the knotted length from where it lay in a clump at Freak’s shoulder blades and began to hack away at it, not stopping until Freak was left with perhaps an inch of ragged length on its head. Just enough to mask its scar. Aunt took a step back, nodded in approval, and ripped Freak from the chair, throwing it to the floor. “Now clean this mess up, or no food today either.” Freak gulped and nodded, proceeding to do just as instructed. Freak managed to finish, and get breakfast cooked before Uncle and Cousin emerged for breakfast, and was rewarded with a husk of bread, before it was ordered to sit in a corner of the living room on the floor, and not move.

 

An hour later, a loud booming noise echoed from the doorway, and Aunt and Uncle exchanged worried looks, while Cousin just looked on in confusion. Uncle gulped but stood and moved to answer the door, as Aunt gestured for Freak to stand, “Yes, well come in before the neighbours see you.”

“T’ank yeh. I rek’n it’s a mite nippy out there.” Came a voice from the hall, as Uncle returned, white-faced, with an absolute giant of a man following behind him. “An’ yer mus’ be ‘Arry.” He beamed at Freak, who blinked, before promptly giving him a shy smile before ducking its head back down and staring at its feet.

Aunt took one look at him, and motioned for Freak to head towards him, “Well, you don’t want to run out of time, you have to go all the way to London, don’t you? You’d best be off now.”

The giant blinked, before pulling a pocket watch out of his pocket, “Blimey, yer right! Well ahm ‘Agrid, and ah know who you are, ‘Arry Pottah o’ course.” He beamed and held one hand out to Freak, who tentatively took it, only to be shook along with its hand, as Hagrid gave its hand a vigorous shake. “Right well, le’s be off then.” He pulled Freak along by the shoulder, and headed back for the doorway, “Oh yer gonna love Diagon ‘Arry.” As they exited the house, Hagrid held the pink umbrella he’d been carrying the whole time in a vertical position, and with a loud bang, a bright purple triple decker bus slammed into view, and to a halt directly in front of the driveway.

 

* * *

 

Hagrid led Freak off the bus in front of an old rundown pub, before quickly turning to face Freak, “Ah, did yeh bring yer le’er ‘Arry?”

Freak froze but gulped and opened its mouth to respond in a quiet and slightly hoarse voice, “No Sir,” it swallowed, “Aunt and Uncle forgot to give it to me.”

“Ah. Well then. Ahm sure the shops’ll ‘ave them, yeh can’t be the firs’ one ta ferget ‘is le’er.” He paused for a moment, “Right then, in we go.” And he led the way into the dingy building.

 

“Hagrid, your usual?” A man who to Freak’s eyes, looked to be as old as the building itself called out.

“Not terday Tom, ahm on ‘Ogwarts business, takin’ ‘Arry ‘ere to get his supplies.”

“Harry you say?” Tom asked, before taking a closer look at Freak where it stood in Hagrid’s shadow somewhat, “Not Harry Potter surely?” With that, Freak was swarmed with people shaking its hand and thanking it for no reason it could understand. It froze for a moment, but then shifted its posture and fell back into the personality it usually put on the few times it could attend school, without the Dursley’s ringing them up because he was 'sick' again.

 

Harry smiled gently and politely at them, whilst internally he was forcing himself not to show his disgust with their fawning. Finally, Hagrid cleared his throat and grabbed Harry’s arm again, over the bruise he’d left from doing the same thing earlier. Harry forced himself not to show the wince and it, like his sudden change in posture and expression from before, went unnoticed by all but a single man standing in the corner of the room, a curious expression resting on his face. He watched in fascination, as the slouching nervous boy who’d entered the building followed Hagrid out, his posture suddenly as perfect as any pureblood heir, and his face holding a small gentle smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Harry isn't bipolar, nor does he have multiple personalities. My thinking is he has a series of masks he uses depending on the situation, and as he met Hagrid at the Dursleys' then Freak was the mask in use at the time. Thus, he chose to maintain it until he could get an idea of which suited his current situation best... leading to the polite, slightly naive Harry he is using now.
> 
> ...and it's not that I dislike Hagrid, it's just that I see him as very naive and not entirely aware of his own strength. Plus he's very dedicated to Dumbledore... so I can't really make him a good guy in this fic. Sorry Hagrid fans.


	3. Entry to the Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry makes an impression on the Goblins.

Harry swallowed a sneer at the sight of The Leaky Cauldron’s back courtyard, and watched in mild bemusement, as Hagrid proceeded to tap a series of bricks around an eyelevel hole in the first layer of the double layer wall. There was silence for a moment, followed by a low grinding noise as the bricks started to shift and move, eventually forming an archway into the weirdest place Harry had ever seen. Harry stared around in shock, mildly horrified by some of the clothing around him. ‘ _Why the Hell are they dressed like that? It can’t be for practicality. Do they ever go out into the Non-Magical World? No-one out there has dressed like that for centuries at the very least. There’s no sign of anything more modern than at least a century ago actually, and that’s a camera. Everything else looks late Middle Ages. Curious.’_

Hagrid turned and beamed down at him, “Welcome ‘Arry, to Diagon Alley.”

Harry beamed up at him, “It’s amazing Hagrid.”

“Tha’ it is.” Hagrid gave him a shove, “Well, le’s ge’ star’ed. Gringo’s firs’ I tink.”

“Okay Hagrid.” Harry beamed at him once more, ignoring the stretch of long-unused muscles.

 

Harry followed Hagrid up the busy street, watching in amusement at the ridiculous outfits a number of the crowd were wearing. _‘Ugh. Who needs that much pink? Weird though, she’s one of the least old-fashioned looks, and if not for the colour, I’d say she was dressed according to the Non-Magical fashion from the Sixties… and she’s one of the most modern looking! Everyone else, aside from what I’m guessing are other students from the Non-Magical World, looks Victorian at best. Where the Hell is their common sense? Surely some degree of freedom of movement is necessary?’_ Harry quickly refocused, as he heard Hagrid’s speech start to become relevant again as more than just a list of approved shops, “…an’ tha’s Gringo’s. Run by goblins o’course. Nas’y Crea’ures. Ne’er cross a goblin ‘Arry.”

Harry mentally snorted, _‘Oh, and calling them creatures isn’t nasty?’._ “I’ll keep that in mind Hagrid.”

Hagrid beamed at him and gave him a shove towards the steps up to the bank, “Righ’ le’s go then.”

Muttering imprecations under his breath, Harry followed Hagrid up the white marble steps, to where a guard glared down his distorted face towards them. Harry mentally shook his head in disgust as Hagrid shoved past without looking, and gave a slight bow instead, noting the momentarily shocked expression on the guards’ faces before hurrying after his irritating guide, ignoring the sensation of eyes on his back as he did so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the brevity... It'll probably pick up a bit when I stop having to stick so closely to canon.


	4. Gringotts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry starts to slip the leash prepared for him...

Harry slipped through the busy bank, keeping to Hagrid’s wake, observing all the ornamentation with amusement. _‘Wonder if the wizards have bothered to question how their bankers can afford all this.’_ A small smirk played at his lips as he met the eyes of the goblin ahead. Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes, as Hagrid jumped to the head of the queue, _‘Oh yes, “don’t upset the goblins Harry”. Are all wizards this hypocritical, or does he not realise how his actions appear to others?’_ The goblin chose to react to this rudeness by ignoring the pair of them and continuing his calculations. Harry fought to contain his smirk, and re-established his mask of naïve shock, staring around in simulated awe. Hagrid finally lost his patience and loudly cleared his throat.

The goblin continued with his work for a moment, before finally raising his head and sneering in response, “Yes?”

“Mr ‘Arry Po’er ‘ere to make a wi’hdrawal.”

“And does Mr Harry Potter have his key?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed in response, as Hagrid started digging through his pockets. He quickly looked as innocently curious as possible, “I have a key? Why would I have a key? I don’t have any money.” He swallowed the smirk as Hagrid tensed, and the goblin’s glare intensified.

“Is that so Mr Potter?”  
“Yes Sir. I didn’t even know I was a wizard before today. I mean I got a letter, but my Aunt just said she’d deal with it.” He paused and bit one narrow lip, bashfully glancing down at his feet, “How is it that I have a key?”

 

The goblin shot Hagrid a filthy look, before clambering down from behind his desk and approaching the two of them. Harry fought back a grimace of annoyance as he realised that he was shorter than the being before him. “Come with me Mr Potter, I think you’re going to need to speak with your Vault Manager, since your Magical Guardian seems to have forgotten their duties.”

Hagrid froze, “No fer tha’. ‘Arry jus’ needs to make a wi’hdrawal and we’ll be on our way.”

The goblin shot him a disgusted look, as did a wizard close enough to be in earshot, before approaching. “Now now Hagrid. If the goblins think Heir Potter needs to speak with his Vault Manager, then we have no standing to intervene. After all, we are currently on their sovereign territory.” The tall blonde man turned to face Harry, “Allow me to welcome you back to the Wizarding World Mr Potter. My wife will be pleased to know her cousin is back among us.”

Harry tilted his head to one side, honestly confused, “Cousin?”

“You don’t know?”

Harry shook his head, annoyed that his personal life appeared to be coming out in public but pleased that it would inconvenience whoever stuck him with the Dursley’s in the first place. “I thought Aunt and Cousin were my last blood relatives. I didn’t even know magic was real before Mr Hagrid came to pick me up. My Aunt said she’d deal with the letter. I just thought it was some kind of prank.”

Man and goblin froze, before the man turned to face the other, “Might I be allowed to accompany Mr Potter to his meeting? I think he may need someone to explain what’s going on, and Hagrid isn’t exactly qualified to do so.”

The goblin hesitated for a moment, before Harry chose to interrupt, “Yes please Sir. I don’t really know what’s going on at all.” He bit his lip and gave an innocently earnest look, “I mean if I have money, why were the Dursley’s always complaining that they didn’t get anything to take care of me?”

The goblin sneered, “That is a very good question Mr Potter.” He turned and glared at Hagrid. “We can take it from here. You can either wait or come back in two hours’ time.”

Hagrid opened his mouth to object, but the blonde man placed one hand gently on Harry’s back and started to steer him after the goblin, “Come now Mr Potter, let’s see if we can’t get this all sorted out, shall we?” Harry beamed up at him and happily followed along.

 

* * *

 

They followed the goblin to a gold encrusted door with no handle. Harry shot it a curious look and watched in puzzlement as the goblin ran one long talon down the surface, only to stare in shock as it slowly opened. The blonde man at his side guided him through and Harry gave a polite bow to the goblin sitting behind the desk inside. He felt the man at his side tense in shock, but the goblin gave him a pleased look. “Heir Potter, Lord Malfoy. How may I be of service to you today?”

Lord Malfoy gave Harry a small smile and motioned for him to speak, which he did, fiddling with the frayed hem of his top as he did so, and tried to make himself look smaller, “Mr Hagrid collected me from Aunt and Uncle’s house and brought me here to get my school stuff. I wasn’t really sure how it would be paid for, as Aunt and Uncle refused to give me any money for it, but I hoped I’d be able to get a loan.” He shot Lord Malfoy a panicked look, “That is what banks do right? I’m not in trouble, am I?”

Lord Malfoy froze, and sank to a crouch, “Mr Potter, _Harry_ , you’re not in trouble.” He sighed, “Your father was born of a very rich family, and while your mother was a muggleborn, you should have a sizeable inheritance from his side of the family at the very least. The fact that you haven’t been informed of this is reprehensible, and I will do what I can to help you. My son and you are cousins after all.”  
Harry gave a series of blinks, and wiped at his eyes, mopping up his crocodile tears, “Really? You’d do that?”

“Of course, I would. You’re family.”

 

The unnamed goblin fought to contain a smirk, watching as the human youngling successfully manipulated the older man. _‘And to think, he’s supposed to be one of the most manipulative men the humans have. This child is going to cause chaos.’_ He froze as the child turned to face him, face perfectly innocent, “I’m sorry Sir. I didn’t mean to cause a fuss.” He looked at his feet and ground the toe of one shoe into the stone.

The goblin swallowed a snort, and replied to the boy, “It’s fine Mr Potter. Perfectly understandable.” He watched as Lord Malfoy placed a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder, earning himself a grateful look shot upwards. “Now, are you telling me you have no prior knowledge of our world?”

Harry nodded, “Yes Sir.”

The goblin sighed and pulled a stone bowl and a silver knife from beneath his desk, along with a sheet of near-white parchment. “I’m going to need you to cut your hand and allow seven drops of blood to drip into the bowl before you.” At the boy’s curious look, “It will allow us to see what you’re entitled to within the bank and tell us who your legal guardians are.”

Harry beamed up at him, “Thank you Sir. Um, does it have to be my hand? Hand wounds take ages to heal, and they tend to hurt a lot.”

Lord Malfoy and the goblin exchanged worried looks, as the goblin replied, “No it doesn’t matter, just most find the hand easier. But Lord Malfoy can heal it for you after you’re done.”

“Really?” He beamed at them both, before picking up the blade, and cutting a horizontal slice into the flesh of his wrist. He held the bleeding wound over the bowl for a few short moments, before removing it and rotating the arm so the wound faced upwards. Lord Malfoy tensed, but took the proffered hand and proceeded to heal the small wound.

 

The goblin raised one eyebrow at the oddly solicitous behaviour from a man most thought to be bare of emotion, before proceeding to pour the now reddish silver liquid over the sheet of parchment. The three of them leaned closer to the desk and watched in shock as the details began to transcribe itself.

 **_Name –_ ** _Hadrian Jameson Potter-Black_

****

**_DOB_ ** _– 00:13, 01/08/1980_

Lord Malfoy choked. “August? Then the prophecy wasn’t referring to him at all.”

Harry shot him a confused look, “Prophecy?”

“I’ll explain later.”

Harry nodded at him and turned back to the parchment.

**_Mother –_ ** _Lily Jane Potter nee Evans_

 **_Father_ ** _– James Fleamont Charlus Potter_

 **_Father (Blood adoption) –_ ** _Sirius Arcturus Black_

****

 

 **_Godfather_ ** _– Remus John Lupin_

 **_Godmother_ ** _– Alice Nolene Longbottom nee Prewett_

**_Magical Guardian (Primary)_** _– Sirius Arcturus Black (Incapacitated)_

**_Magical Guardian (Secondary)_ ** _– Remus John Lupin (denied by Wizengamot ruling)_

 **_Magical Guardian (Tertiary)_ ** _– Alice Nolene Longbottom nee Prewett (Incapacitated)_

 **_Magical Guardian (By Wizengamot appointment)_ ** _– Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

**_Heirships:_ **

  * _Heir Potter (paternal)_
  * _Heir Black (paternal)_
  * _Heir Naga (maternal) – potential_
  * _Heir Slytherin (by conquest) – potential_
  * _Heir Gaunt (by conquest) – potential_
  * _Heir Vasileios (paternal) – potential_
  * _Heir Peverell (paternal) (by conquest) – potential_
  * _Heir Gryffindor (paternal) – potential_
  * _Heir Emrys (by magic) – potential_
  * _Heir Lefay (maternal) – potential_
  * _Heir Pendragon (paternal) – potential_
  * _Lord Gris (by magic) – Potential_



This time it was Harry’s turn to choke, as Lord Malfoy looked to be stunned silent, “Um, how can I have heirships? Potter I kinda get, but the others?”  
The goblin smiled crookedly at him, “The then Heir Black chose to blood-adopt you when you were an infant. That made you for all intents and purposes his son and heir. Your mother must have been born of a squibline of some sort for you to be an heir on her side. When you defeated Lord Voldemort you gained claim to his houses, if he doesn’t reinstate his claim before you gain majority, then you become the heir. As for the others, they have some sort of requirement you need to achieve in order to gain the title.”

Harry shot him a confused look, “Who’s Lord Voldemort?”

Lord Malfoy choked, and rasped out, “You don’t know?”

“No Sir.”

“Fuck. Do you know how your parents died at least?”

“Aunt said that my father was a drunk and he managed to drive him and his whore of a wife into a wall.”

This time the goblin joined Lord Malfoy in his groan, “Harry, your parents were magic. They had no need for a muggle car, and your mother was definitely _not_ a whore. Voldemort,” he swallowed, “was a Dark Wizard. He led a rebellion against the _Light_ , which are the current dominant power, in hopes of re-establishing balance in the Magical World. Dumbledore led a vigilante group known as the Order of the Phoenix against him. Your parents were some of the most active members, and on the thirty-first of October 1981, Lord Voldemort went after them personally due to a prophecy he’d heard word of stating that you were destined to defeat him. He killed them, and tried to kill you in turn, but the spell supposedly rebounded and killed him instead. The only damage you suffered was your scar.”

Harry blinked, “Oh. Why? I mean the future isn’t set, wouldn’t that make the prophecy sort of self-fulfilling?”

Lord Malfoy blinked, “I can’t believe no one ever thought of that.”

Harry grinned up at him, “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you for following someone dumb enough to fall for a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“Thanks, I… what?”

“Well you’re obviously not Light. You sneered when you said it, and you seemed rather sympathetic to the Dark’s goals. Also, you _really_ seem to detest Dumbledore and you know too much to not be on one side or the other.” That said, Harry turned back to the parchment. “Huh.”

 

**_Vaults:_ **

  * _Potter Vaults_
    * _Trust Vault_
      * _170 000 Galleons_
      * _2 000 Sickles_
      * _30 Knuts_
      * _2 trunks_
    * _Family Vault (limited access)_
      * _3 000 000 Galleons_
      * _120 000 Sickles_
      * _50 000 Knuts_
    * _Library Vault (limited access)_
      * _75 000 books_
      * _100 000 scrolls_
      * _50 000 letters_
      * _120 slates_
      * _3 000 papyri_
    * _Lord’s Vault (no access until Lordship is claimed)_
      * _Potter Family Grimoire_
      * _Potter Family Tapestry_
      * _500 000 Galleons_
      * _10 000 Sickles_
      * _20 000 Knuts_
    * _Artefact Vault (limited access)_
      * _12 wands_
      * _1 penseive_
      * _32 suits of armour_
      * _3 000 various weapons_
      * _47 Tapestries_
      * _extra_
  * _Black Vaults_
    * _Trust Vault_
      * _250 000 Galleons_
      * _20 000 Sickles_
      * _5 000 Knuts_
      * _1 trunk_
      * _1 wand holster_
    * _Family Vault (limited access)_
      * _20 000 000 Galleons_
      * _1 000 000 Sickles_
      * _50 000 Knuts_
    * _Library Vault (no access until magical maturity – after that at discretion of Family Lord)_
      * _Black Family Library_
    * _Lord’s Vault (no access until Lordship is claimed)_
      * _Black Family Grimoire_
      * _Black Family Tapestry_
      * _Blood of the Blacks_
      * _1 000 000 Galleons_
      * _30 000 Sickles_
      * _300 Knuts_
    * _Artefact Vault (limited access)_
      * _63 Family Wands_
      * _1 penseive_
      * _58 suits of armour_
      * _5 300 various weapons_
      * _1 Roman Chariot_
      * _1 horcrux – Tom Marvolo Riddle_
      * _extra_
    * _Bequest Vault_
      * _32 000 000 Galleons_
      * _500 000 Sickles_
      * _120 000 Knuts_
      * _600 000 letters_
        * _300 000 offers of betrothal_
      * _6 000 books_
      * _120 000 var. toys_
      * _23 cauldrons_



 

“Bequest Vault?” Harry glanced at the goblin.

Lord Malfoy chuckled lowly, “It became rather popular to leave money to ‘The Boy who Lived’ after the Dark Lord disappeared, not to mention those of us who gave you money to discredit rumours of us serving him. I wouldn’t be surprised if you haven’t inherited a number of properties actually. You’re rather lucky no one thought to leave you a Lordship.”

Harry groaned and turned to the goblin, “Any reason these are the only two on here?”

“You’re a potential heir for the others, unless you qualify for the titles you won’t have access to the vaults or properties, and if you do, it's probably best to discuss them at a later meeting.”

“Right.”

 

**_Properties:_ **

  * _Potter (sole access)_
    * _Potter Manor_
    * _Marauder’s Manse_
    * _Villa de Leon_
  * _Black_
    * _Black Manor_
    * _Grimmauld Place_
    * _Castle Noir_
    * _The Doghouse_
    * _Black Estate_
    * _Black House_
    * _Black Villa_
    * _Isle Black_
    * _Mordred’s Manse_
  * _Bequests:_
    * _The Smithy_
    * _The Faery House_
    * _Fae Isle_
    * _Lake Lestrange_



**_Gifts/Blocks/Compulsions:_ **

  * _Parseltongue (25% Blocked – Albus Dumbledore)_
  * _Horcrux Scar – Tom Marvolo Riddle_
  * _Metamorphagus (100% Blocked – Lily Jane Potter nee Evans / broken 10%)_
  * _Potions (90% Blocked – Albus Dumbledore)_
  * _Occlumency (100% Blocked – Albus Dumbledore / broken 30%)_
  * _Shadow-walker (100% bloodline block)_
  * _Dragonlord (100% bloodline block)_
  * _Blood of the Dragons (100% bloodline block)_
  * _Blood Glamour (Albus Dumbledore)_
  * _Compulsions (Albus Dumbledore)_
    * _Obey Albus Dumbledore_
    * _Trust Albus Dumbledore_
    * _Obey the Light_
    * _Hate the Dark_
    * _Distrust Severus Snape_
    * _Distrust Slytherins_
    * _Act like a Gryffindor (broken)_
    * _Refuse to acknowledge abuse_
    * _Obey Petunia Dursley nee Evans (broken 75%)_
    * _Obey Vernon Dursley (broken 80%)_
    * _Obey Dudley Dursley (broken 100%)_
    * _Distrust Sirius Black_
    * _Trust Molly Weasley nee Prewett_
    * _Trust Ronald Weasley_
    * _Befriend Ronald Weasley_
    * _Trust Fredrick Weasley_
    * _Trust George Weasley_
    * _Trust Arthur Weasley_
    * _Trust Ginevra Weasley_
    * _Trust Charles Weasley_
    * _Trust William Weasley_
    * _Trust Percy Weasley_
    * _Trust Hermione granger_
    * _Befriend Hermione Granger_
    * _Obey Hermione Granger_
  * _Compulsion – Sirius Black_
    * _Distrust Snivellous_



****

**_Inheritances:_ **

  * _Dragonlord_
    * _100% Bloodline block_
    * _Requires being claimed as kin to activate_
  * _Shadow Elf_
    * _100% Bloodline block_
    * _Requires balance between the Lines to activate_
  * _Master of Death – potential_



**_Health:_ **

 

Harry’s eyes widened, and he started looking nervous, causing the other two to give him worried looks.

 

  * _Severe malnutrition_
    * _15mths to present_
  * _Broken bones_
    * _Right leg – 17mths_
    * _Left wrist – 4yrs_
    * _Left leg – 4yrs_
    * _Right leg – 6yrs_
    * _Ribs – 6yrs_
    * _Collarbone – 7yrs_
    * _Right arm – 7yrs_
    * _Nose – 8yrs_
    * _Orbital socket – 8yrs_
    * _Cheekbone – 8yrs_
    * _Nose – 9yrs_
    * _Nose – 9yrs_
    * _Pelvis – 9yrs_
  * _Burns_
    * _Severe_
  * _Illnesses_
    * _Colic – 6mths_
    * _Pneumonia – 15mths_
    * _Nappy rash – 15mths to 3yrs_
    * _Urinary Tract Infection – recurring 15mths to 3yrs_
    * _Urinary Tract infection – 6yrs_
    * _Food poisoning_
      * _3yrs_
      * _5yrs_
      * _9yrs_
      * _9yrs_
      * _10yrs_
    * _Influenza_
      * _4yrs_
      * _7yrs_
      * _8yrs_
    * _Measles_
      * _17mths_
    * _Wyvern Pox_
      * _12mths_
    * _Allergic reactions_
      * _Dairy_
        * _10mths_
        * _15mths – 2yrs_
        * _4yrs_
        * _8yrs_
        * _10yrs_
      * _Lemons_
        * _14mths_
        * _9yrs_
      * _Penetrating injuries_
        * _Stab wound – 3yrs_
        * _Whipping – 7yrs_
        * _Stab wound – 8yrs_
        * _Anal tearing_
          * _Reoccurring 9yrs-present_
        * _Whipping – 11yrs_
      * _Blunt force trauma_
        * _Concussion_
          * _15mths_
          * _2yrs_
          * _27mths_
          * _3yrs_
          * _6yrs_
          * _9yrs – reoccurring_
          * _11yrs_
        * _Eye damage – 8yrs_
        * _Severe bruising – reoccurring 15mths to present_



Lord Malfoy froze, and turned to Harry, flinching at the angry, pained look in his eyes, “I’m so sorry child.”

Harry turned a frosty glare on the man, “I don’t want your _Pity._ I’ve heard those words before, and nothing ever happens, except they punish me for telling. What’s the point in _pity_ , when I have to go back to them anyway?”

The goblin frowned, “And what if you didn’t have to?” Harry froze and turned to look at him. “If Lord Malfoy is willing to claim custody of you by means of his wife, we may be able to get you away from them and Dumbledore both. After all, as your Magical Guardian, it is his responsibility to ensure you’re happy, healthy and educated in the ways of the Magical World. As I see it he’s failed on all three counts, and Lady Malfoy is your Blood Adopted father’s cousin, which makes her your next closest magical relative, aside from her sister. But as the sister is disowned, Lady Malfoy gets the dominant claim.”

Lord Malfoy turned to look at the waiflike child next to him, “Would you be willing to accept this Harry?”

Harry gave him a calculating look, abandoning the innocent child act, “If we work in a clause into the guardianship contract that anything qualifiable as abuse grants me emancipation, and the ability to choose my own residence and live alone if I so wish.”

Lord Malfoy smiled down at the boy, “Very well.” He turned to the goblin, “I assume you can get this underway?” At the nod he continued, “Let’s see what Heirships young Mr Potter can claim, shall we?”

 

The goblin sneered back at him and collected eleven ring boxes from under his desk, “The Gris Lordship can only be claimed once your magic is ready. As such, it brings you the ring, you can’t claim it yourself, but in claiming the other houses, your blocks and compulsions will be stripped away. Good luck little wizard.”

Harry swallowed, “Understood.” He took the first box offered to him, holding a silver ring with three five-pointed white flowers on a black field. Slipping it on his finger, he closed his eyes and revelled in the feeling of warmth it brought. The next was a silver ring with a Raven clutching a skull emblazoned in black on a dark purple background, bringing with it a feeling of darkness and chaos.

As he opened his eyes the goblin nodded, and passed him another silver ring, with an image of a black striking cobra on a green field, “House Naga.”

Harry swallowed and closed his eyes, watching as a snake hissed at him, _~Who dares?~_

Harry swallowed, and went with his instincts, _~I am Hadrian, Son of the Houses of Potter and Black. I am told my mother was a daughter of a squibline of your noble house.~_

_~Is that so? You certainly have the eyes of a Naga-child, and you have the speech. Very well.~_

Harry blinked his eyes open to see a pair of shocked faces, “You’re really a parselmouth?” Lord Malfoy choked out.

The goblin snorted, “Nevermind that, House Naga hasn’t been successfully claimed in five centuries.”

Harry cocked his head to one side, “What happens in the case of an unsuccessful claim?”  
“Oh, you only lose access to the magics gifted to you by that line.”  
Harry glared, “Is that all?” The goblin only smirked in response and passed him a ring holding only a pattern of blue and yellow stripes, “Is there a reason they’re all silver?”  
Lord Malfoy smiled at him, “Silver is used for the Heir, gold for the Lord.”

“I see.” Harry slid the ring onto his finger and hissed at the jolt of pain as it bound itself to his core, only to be handed a ring with a silver serpent on a field only slightly darker than the Naga one, sliding it on, he sighed as darkness overcame him once more.

_~Who are you child? How do you claim the Slytherin Heir’s ring?~_

_~My name is Hadrian. I am told I defeated the previous Lord as an infant, but I have no memory of the event. All I know is that Gringotts has records showing I have the right to attempt a claim.~_

_~I see. You have a core of shadows child. Odd. But I welcome you to the House of Slytherin Hadrian. Be welcome and faretheewell.~_

Harry took a breath and opened his eyes, flinching at the backlash of cold and darkness, only to be handed a ring with a red lion rampant on a gold field. He took a step back at the sensation of something pouring rapidly through every cell in his body, only to relax as it settled soothingly in his core. The next was red, with a golden crown depicted therein. “Really?” He glanced up, “Don’t tell me this is Pendragon.”

The goblin snorted, “Vasileios actually, but the Pendragons did wed into that family.” Harry snorted and pulled it on, gasping at the overwhelming feeling of acceptance, grateful the rings seemed to be merging as he went. The next ring was white with a brilliant red dragon coiled in a circle in the centre. Harry gasped, and pulled it on, feeling a reluctant feeling as it perused his mind, before it finally _finally_ seemed to find something acceptable in his mind, and eased its way into his core.

The next ring was a fire opal, which gave off a feeling of amusement as it merged easily with him, _‘If you need me child, just reach out and I will hear you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet a potential Dragonlord after so many centuries.’_

Harry swallowed and reached for the first final two rings, a dark purple lily on a pale green background, only to pull his hand back at the last moment, and try again with the other, a white circle bisected by a line on a black field. The other two looked at him in confusion, “They I’m not ready yet. I need to grow before I can take on their weights.”

The goblin raised an eyebrow, “Very well. Now do you want these announced?” Harry flinched, and rapidly shook his head. “As you wish. You’ll need to acknowledge at least one however, I suggest either Potter or Black.”

Harry tilted his head to one side, “Are there any differences in the way the Houses are viewed?”

Lord Malfoy gave him a proud look, “House Black are seen as the Darkest of the Dark, whilst the Potters, while generally more Grey, are usually seen as the epitome of Light.”

Harry grimaced, “As much as I’d rather not, I think I’d best only acknowledge House Potter at this time.”

The goblin nodded, “Good choice. I’ll submit the notification to the House of Lords. Unfortunately, I think the others will be accidentally misplaced. Just focus on the Potter name and changing the ring to suit.”  
Harry smiled at him, “Thank you Master Goblin.”  
“You’re very welcome child, and no need to worry about what is discussed in these rooms. Neither Lord Malfoy or myself can reveal what goes on in a client meeting without the permission of the client.”

 

Harry nodded, “You have my permission to reveal my Medical Records, and the Blocks on my person as needed to assist you in bringing our case to trial.”

Lord Malfoy smiled gently down at him, “Draco and my wife were going to wait for me at Madame Malkins, we may as well get started on your school shopping. Shall we?”

Harry reverted back to sweet and innocent with a speed that slightly concerned Lord Malfoy, “Sounds like a plan.” He beamed up at him, “Thank you again Master Goblin.”  
“The pleasure was all mine child.” He tossed Harry a black leather pouch, “It links directly to your Trust Vaults, just think on which Vault you wish to withdraw from and the amount, and place your hand within, it will appear inside.”

Harry nodded and gave a polite bow, before following Lord Malfoy out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, compared to the last few, this is a tad out of proportion. Told you I struggle when stuck sticking to canon :)
> 
> Any issues with the direction this is heading down? I couldn't really see any way for Harry to slip Dumble's leash without access to an adult wizard :(


	5. Madam Malkin's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn that regardless of who his parents were, Harry is probably not going to Gryffindor.  
> Also, Harry makes a friend? Maybe?

Hadrian tilted his head to one side thoughtfully as he followed Lord Malfoy down the steps of Gringotts, having dodged Hagrid through the goblins’ amused assistance, “I’m assuming if you prevent me from returning to the Dursley’s Dumbledore will get you in trouble for kidnapping?”

The tall blonde tensed and tightened his grip on the walking stick in his hands, before flicking his free hand in a sudden motion, “Very probably. But even if I wanted to return you to that hell, I doubt my wife would let me get away with it.”

Hadrian hummed, “That some kind of silencing charm?” At the nod, he continued, “My Inheritance Test showed me being a Metamorphagus. I’m assuming given the nature of both meta and morph that it implies some form of shapeshifting ability?”

Lord Malfoy shot him an incredulous look, “Indeed it does. Metamorphagi can shift their appearance as and how they wish. Why do you ask?”

“Any chance your family could be hosting the young Heir Vasileios for the remainder of the Summer break? If I can get Hagrid to escort me to the bus stop, I can tell him I’ll get home myself from there. The Dursley’s won’t bother telling anyone if I don’t show up before school starts, so you could collect me after he leaves, or at the next stop. Then all we need to worry about is making sure I can shift my appearance sufficiently.”

“And to think everyone is assuming you’ll be a Gryffindor.” Lord Malfoy gave him an amused smile, opening the door to Madam Malkins as he did so, “You’re going to cause chaos at Hogwarts, aren’t you?”

Hadrian just smiled enigmatically, “Perhaps.”

 

* * *

 

 

Hadrian froze as his magic slipped his control and rushed to meet the rising magic of a slight blonde figure on the stool within the store. To his stunned eyes, it was as if a raging tide of black tinged green met and swirled around a dancing cloud of brilliant silver. The adults stared on in shock, feeling the rising tide of magic, as the two boys met eyes, and Hadrian finally forced his magic back under his control, wrenching it back into his core, but not before it seemed to stroke along the boy’s magic as if saying goodbye. He watched in mild bemusement as the silvery magic seemed to sullenly return to that of the boy before him. The plump elderly witch who’d been altering the boy’s robes started to speak, “Oh my! I never thought I’d be so privileged as to experience something like that, and so young too!”

Lord Malfoy tensed, “Now Madam, there’s no need to concern yourself with this…”

“Oh, but you must be so proud! Magical Synchronicity is…”

Hadrian cocked his head to one side, watching the traces of frustration, worry and building anger flicking across Lord Malfoy’s face, _‘Hmm. Magical Synchronicity, I need to look into that.’_ Finally growing frustrated with the woman’s idiocy, he decided to get involved. “Excuse me Ma’am, but can I get my robes?”

“Oh of course Dearie, just hop up on this stool, and I’ll get this sorted in a trice.”

He beamed at her, “Thank you!”, and waited ‘til she met his gaze to smile at his manners _, ~Forget. This is what you know. I entered the shop with Lord Malfoy and asked for my robes. Nothing more.~_ Hadrian watched in amusement as she blinked, before motioning him to take a place on the stool, while Lord Malfoy, and who he assumed were his wife and son, stared at him in shock.

 

She bustled into the back of the shop, muttering about finding smaller robes, and the boy on the stool next to him, leant over and spoke just loud enough for his parents to hear, “What did you do to her?”

Hadrian coolly raised an eyebrow, “Introduce yourself, and I may answer your question.”

Lord Malfoy fought back a smirk at the stunned look on his son’s face, watching as he fought past his shock to answer and held out his hand to shake, “Draconis Lucius Malfoy, Heir to the Most Noble House of Malfoy. Call me Draco.”

Hadrian gave him an innocent smile, slipping back into Harry once more, “Hadrian Jameson Potter-Black, Heir to the Most Noble House of Potter. Call me Harry.” His grin grew broader at the flummoxed look on the face of the boy before him.

“Y-you’re Harry Potter?”

“That’s what I’m told.”

“R-right.” Draco visibly swallowed and pulled his composure back together, “Have you had any thought as to what House you’ll be in Hogwarts? I’ll be Slytherin myself of course.”

Harry tilted his head to one side, “Houses?”

“You don’t know? Alright then. There’s four Houses in total: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Gryffindor is supposed to be for the Brave and Heroic; Ravenclaw is for the Intelligent; Slytherin is for the Ambitious and Cunning.”

Harry hummed in acknowledgement, “And Hufflepuff?”  
“Is all the rest.” Draco gave him a tentative smile, “You’ll probably be in Gryffindor though. Both your parents were, and the Potter’s have been Gryffindors for generations.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think that’s for me. I’m not exactly heroic.” Harry stared at the floor, “I’ll probably be in Hufflepuff.”

Lord Malfoy interjected then, “I highly doubt that Mr Potter.”

Harry turned and beamed at him, “Really?”

“Most certainly. I would be very surprised if you would up anywhere other than Slytherin.”

 

His wife shot him a sharp look, but Draco beamed at Harry, “That’d be awesome. We might be able to share a dorm then.” Harry mimicked his smile, and Draco continued, “Father says the Slytherin dorms are under the Black Lake, apparently you can sometimes see the Giant Squid through the windows!”

“Really?”

“Uhuh! My godfather’s the Head of House, and he said that the Slytherin dorms are the only ones that have just two students to a dorm. It’d be really neat if we could share. Of course, all Slytherin’s are supposed to go around in groups of two or more, so be aware of that.”  
“Really? Why?”

“Because Slytherins are supposedly all evil and dark, but we’re eleven! I mean come _on_.” Harry snickered slightly, and Draco grinned, “But yeah, most of You Know Who’s, um…”  
Harry smiled gently, “Don’t worry, your father already explained who that is.”  
“Really? Huh. Okay. Well anyway, most of his Death Eaters were supposed to be Slytherins. Which is all bollocks of course, its just the Slytherins were the most obvious. The members from other Houses managed to dodge suspicion mostly.” Draco huffed, “Anyway, you any good at Quidditch? Father promised to get me a broom if I get on the team. Of course, that’ll be second year at best, but still.”

Harry bit his lip, “Sorry, but no. I was raised by my mother’s muggle sister and her husband.”  
Draco grimaced, “Really? Well that’s not your fault. Anyway, Quidditch is a sport played on brooms hundreds of feet in the air. It has four balls: the Quaffle, which has to be thrown by the Chasers through one of the three hoops on their end of the field; the Bludgers, which Beaters use to try and knock other players off their brooms; and the Snitch, which the Seeker tries to find as quickly as possible, and when it’s caught, the game’s over.”

“Sounds dangerous.”  
“Yep. But _really_ cool.” Draco beamed at him, as they both stepped off the stools, as Madam Malkin completed the alterations. “Can you come with us to get the rest of our supplies?”

“I’d be happy to.”


	6. Ollivander's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Draco gets a wand, and Harry gets...

Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and tugged him out the door, “Come on! Mother promised we’d do wands next!”

Lord Malfoy cast his wife an amused look, “Did you now, Narcissa?”

She huffed a laugh, “Of course I did. We toured the Quidditch shop before we came here, but the other stores will still be packed, and since the wand is the thing most people go for last…”

“Good thinking. Shall we catch them up, or do you think they can make it on their own?” He asked, watching as the boys raced up the street, their black and white heads bobbing through the crowd.

“Oh, let them go. Independence is good for them. We can catch them at the store. It’s not like Ollivander ever does anything quickly.”

“True.”

 

Narcissa cast a silencing spell with a discreet flick of her wand, “So, care to tell me how you came across the Potter Heir, Lucius?”

He winced slightly, “I had just finished at the counter, and was heading towards the door, when I heard him and the Hogwarts Game Keeper at the counter. The goblin asked for the boy’s key, and Hagrid started digging through his pockets, when a waif of a boy piped up and asked how he could have a key when he hadn’t even known he was a wizard before today. So, as the Law requires, the goblin tried to take him to see his Account Manager, since his Magical Guardian obviously hadn’t educated him as required. Hagrid tried to _prevent_ such a meeting occurring, so I intervened and pointed out that we were on their territory, so it would be incredibly stupid to refuse, and told the boy that you’d be pleased to know your cousin was back among us. He pulled the most innocent look and said he had no idea he had any relatives other than those he was living with, and that he thought the letter was a prank, and asked how, if he had money, his relatives complained they didn’t get anything for looking after him.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “We wound up doing an inheritance test, and while I promised to keep the contents secret, I am allowed to speak of the Medical portion, and that boy is extremely lucky to be alive and sane.”

“What?”

“Indeed. I assured the boy we’d be happy to take him in, but he thinks we’d get in trouble if Harry Potter were in our care, as Dumbledore would claim we kidnapped him.”

Narcissa shot him a filthy look, “You better not be sending him back there Lucius.”

“Of course not. What do you take me for? He’s a Metamorphagus, and the plan is to allow Hagrid to escort him to Muggle Transportation, before I meet him at the next stop to bring him home with us. Apparently, his relatives won’t care. He’s planning on shifting his appearance and using the name linked to another title he possesses.”

“No wonder you think he’s meant for Slytherin.”

“Precisely.” He held the door open for his wife.

 

“Mother! Father! What took you so long?” A red-haired Draco demanded, setting down a pale wand on the counter.

A smirking Harry leant against the wall by the window, “Now Draco, don’t get pissy at your parents because the wand decided to dye your hair.”

Draco huffed and reached for the next in the stack, as Lucius moved to stand next to Hadrian and spoke to him softly, “The wand did it huh?”

Hadrian shot him a smirk, “It certainly looked like it.” He said in an equally soft tone.

Narcissa overhearing huffed, “Definitely a Slytherin. You better hope he doesn’t realise that was you.”

“Oh, I know. I’m looking forward to it actually.”

Just then a beaming Draco rushed over to show Hadrian his new wand, “Look! It’s Rowan and Vampire fang, ten inches. Isn’t it cool?”

Harry smiled gently at him, “Very cool. Is it my turn?” Draco nodded absently, still distracted by his wand.

 

Harry turned his gaze to Ollivander who smiled gently at the boy, “Come now, Mr Potter, let’s see what picks you. I remember selling your parents their wands you know.”

“Really?”

“Indeed.” He started running his hands along the boxes of the shelves, glancing back to scan his eyes over Harry momentarily. “Try this.” Harry cocked his head to one side and picked up the wand to do so. It made an odd noise, and Draco’s hair turned blue. “Maybe not.” Ollivander then proceeded to get Harry to try a number of different wands, none of which seemed to work out quite right.

Harry watched in amusement as Ollivander disappeared into the back once more and Lucius attempted to dry off his clothing from the sudden rain spell caused by the seventeenth wand tried, “Sorry Sir.”

Narcissa just snorted in amusement, “Nothing to apologise for. I believe your father almost blew up the shop when he got his first wand.”

Lucius huffed, “Sounds like him.”

Just then, Ollivander finally emerged from amongst the shelves, “I wonder.”

Harry fought to keep a smile on his face, _‘Ridiculous old fool. Does he not realise that none of us are buying into his mystic bullshit? Well, maybe Draco, but he’s young yet.’_

“Try this one Mr Potter.”

Harry sighed, but obligingly picked up the brown stick of wood. A golden light emanated from its tip and enveloped him in warmth… _crack!_ The wood split into pieces in his grasp, leaving him clutching just the feather. “Um…”

Ollivander blinked, “Well… it seems the core chose you. Just not the wood. Curious, most curious.”

Harry let out a mental huff, “Excuse me sir, but what’s curious?”  
“That feather Mr Potter. The phoenix who provided it gave one other feather, just one other. It’s curious it’s destined for you, when its brother gave you that scar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it's confusing, Harry is the mask he wears when around those he feels he needs to be a 'normal' child. Hadrian is when he relaxes and becomes himself. He's more Harry with Draco, because he doesn't feel Draco could accept his nature at this age, while the adult Malfoy's are more likely to.


	7. Curious...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...or in other words, Harry gets an awesome wand and breaks Ollivander.

“Anyway, Mr Potter, come into the back. We need to find a suitable wood to match your new core.” Harry shrugged and followed him back, keeping a hold of the reddish gold feather in his hand as he did so. “Now, close your eyes and breathe. Let your magic and that feather, guide you to where you need to be.”

 

Harry let out a breath, _‘Senile old coot’_ and allowed his magic to guide his feet. He stopped in front of a shelf of glass jars and Ollivander looked on in puzzlement as his free hand drifted through the air in front of him, before finally pausing in front of a jar. He removed it and opened his eyes. “Um…?”  
“It appears Mr Potter that you’ll be having a dual-cored wand. Phoenix feather and Thestral hair. Very interesting.” Ollivander took the jar from him, “Carry on.” Harry sighed and did as instructed, pausing in front of a chest of drawers this time, his hand tracing over the drawers. He finally slid one open and removed a thin rod, eliciting a gasp from Ollivander. “Oh, my.” He took the piece of wood from Harry and carefully took it over to the table, along with the Phoenix feather he still carried, “Fir and Elder wood, grown intertangled to the point where they are all but inseparable. _Very_ interesting Mr Potter.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Harry said softly.

Ollivander nodded absently, already turning the four components over in his hands, Harry watched interested, as the two near-merged woods wove themselves closer together, pulling the feather and the thin strand of black hair into them as they did so. There was a flash of gold light, and then Ollivander was holding out a pale wand, slightly longer than Draco’s with a reddish pattern like flames licking up its length. “Here you go Child. I will be _very_ interested in watching what you get up to with a wand like _that_ as your companion.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Harry carefully took it from him, and gasped at the sensation of _power_ rushing through him, before pausing, and biting his lip, “Is there any way to change the appearance of a wand?”

Ollivander frowned, “Why would you want to do that?”  
“Oh! No, it’s not that I _want_ to do that. It’s just I’ve noticed that all the wands seem to be different, and I was curious as to whether or not they could be disguised. I mean Magical Police must need to go undercover surely, how do they do that if their wand gives them away?”

Ollivander gave him a strange look, almost a mix of amusement and concern, “There are ways, yes. But they’re usually kept secret by the Families for whom Wandmaking is a traditional craft.”  
“Oh.”

“However, for someone with a wand as curious as this one, I think I can make an exception.” He pulled a dusty book down from a shelf above his head, “Just don’t lose this, and make sure you keep the contents secret.”

Harry blinked in shock, “Y-yes Sir.”

“Good lad.” Ollivander started to lead him back out to the main part of the shop, “If however, you feel like sharing it, I would say that young Mr Malfoy seems trustworthy enough.”

 

They arrived back out where the Malfoys were waiting, Harry barely cleared the counter, before Draco was pouncing on him, “Well? What is it?”

Harry smirked, “Fir and Elder with a Phoenix feather and Thestral hair core.” At Draco’s raised eyebrow, he continued, “13 inches.”

“Awesome.” Draco breathed.

Lord Malfoy smiled benevolently down at them, before bypassing them for the counter, “How much?”

“Nothing today Lord Malfoy. Young Mr Potter’s wand was interesting enough to spur a number of experiments I’d all but given up on!”

“Very well. If you’re sure?”

“Quite.”

“Thank you. Come along boys.” He herded the two eleven-year olds to the door, where Narcissa was waiting, “Lunch and then books I believe.”


	8. Hagrid returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry and Draco chat, and Harry really does NOT like Hagrid.

Lord Malfoy followed in the wake of a pair of boys excitedly discussing the uses of the Potions ingredients they’d just purchased. His wife drew up next to him, from where she’d been waiting outside, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips, “Severus will be pleased.”

He grimaced, “I doubt it, Mr Potter looks a lot like his father at present.”  
“True,” She shot him a look, “But children change all the time, surely it won’t be that much of a problem.”

He matched her gaze at that, “And if Mr Potter is forced to fall in line with the expectations of those around him in order to survive? He may be a Slytherin at heart, but how do you think the Wizarding World would react if their precious Boy Who Lived was sorted into the Den of Snakes?”

“Anything less than pure Gryffindor would cause the press to suggest he’s Dark or broken in some way.”

“Exactly.” He glanced back to the boys, and groaned, “Bloody Hell.”

 

A smile played at Harry’s lips as he listened to Draco happily reciting the entirety of the Hogwarts First Year Potions Curriculum, “So he has a habit of forcing the students through a pop quiz in the first lesson?”

“Yep, but as long as you’re not a Gryffindork you shouldn’t have to worry too much.” Harry cleared his throat and Draco winced, “Sorry! I mean, he just really doesn’t like Gryffindors.”  
“Any idea why?”

“Ummm…”  
“Come on Draco, you don’t want me to suffer for something I don’t even know about if I’m sorted Gryff do you?” He asked, shooting Draco a pair of overblown puppydog eyes.

Draco snorted a laugh, “Fair point. Father doesn’t like talking about it, but he did say it had to do with your parents and the way they treated him in school.”

“Brilliant. So, he hates the Gryffs for my parents’ actions, which means he’ll probably hate me too.”

Draco winced, “Um, maybe? But he’s my godfather, I’m sure I’ll be able to explain what you’re really like.”

Harry gave him a sad look, “You realise I may not be able to act like I am now when we’re at Hogwarts right? I mean, I want to be your friend and I don’t want that to change, _but_ if the Boy Who Lived goes to Slytherin…”

“Then the theory that the only reason you defeated the Dark Lord was because you were destined to be even worse than him gains traction.”

“Precisely. Unless I act horrified at my sorting?”  
“You’d have to immediately counter that when out of sight of those outside the House.”  
“True, but it would be very Slytherin of me. Might gain me some status back.”

“You’ll have to be pretty brutal in asserting yourself. You’re the symbol of the Light. They’ll treat you worse than a Mudblood if you follow that plan.”

Harry hummed in acknowledgement and glanced towards the Magical Menagerie, where they’d planned to go next, “Fuuuck…”

Draco glanced up in concern, “What is it… oh. I guess you’ll be leaving now then.”

“I’d best. Sorry Draco, but if he sees me with the Malfoys….”  
“It’s fine. At least the Weasley’s haven’t been around so the odds of anyone realising you’re _him_ are pretty slim.” He pulled Harry into a sudden hug, “I’m glad to have had a chance to meet you Cousin.”

Harry gaped in shock for several seconds, before slowly hugging him back, “Likewise Cousin.”

 

He pulled away and shot Draco a wicked grin, before sidestepping through the crowd, finally melting back into view across the street where he quickly purchased a satchel from a second-hand dealer and slid the few school books Lord Malfoy had allowed him to retain hold of, into the bag. Harry finally drew himself up and stepped out into plain view. “‘Arry! Wher’ve yeh been?” The Gamekeeper grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him for a moment.

“Sorry Hagrid, I finished my robes shopping ages ago, so I waited for a bit, but when you didn’t get back, I thought I should get the rest of my shopping done. I figured you wouldn’t want to waste too much time on me.”

“Nonsense ‘Arry!” He boomed, “Are yeh all done then? Yeh don’ ‘ave much with yeh.”

“The shopkeeper shrank my trunk for me and I put it in my bag. He said that I could get one of the older students to unshrink it on the train.” He swallowed heavily, “That way my relatives don’t have to see any sign of Magic.”

“Righ’ well, ye’ll be wan’ing a pet o’course.” Hagrid steered him towards the Owlery, completely ignoring his last few sentences, “Not a cat though, ahm allergic, an’ toads aren’ exac’ly an appropri’e pet for the Sav’or. So le’s get yeh an owl.”

Hadrian huffed, _‘And if I don’t_ want _an owl you blithering fool?”_ He shot a snickering Draco a dark glare where he stood with his equally amused parents, though he did notice a hint of worry in Lord Malfoy’s gaze. He caught Lord Malfoy’s gaze and lifted his left hand in a subtle wave, flashing the braided bracelet Draco had handed him earlier. Lord Malfoy caught sight of it and nodded his head in acknowledgement, knowing his son could use the paired bracelet to find him as long as Hadrian allowed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Hagrid fans, but I always found it odd how he was in the books towards Harry in the beginning.  
> ...and I'm unsure that I'll be bringing Hedwig back into it, I'm thinking an Eagle Owl might be more apt


	9. Owllett's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry picks an owl, and ignores the one Dumbles prepared for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question: for Hadrian's alias with the Malfoys:  
> Should it be Heir or Heiress Vasileios??? Or should he come out as both???
> 
> As a Metamorphagus I feel like gender would really be optional in this sense...
> 
> I can see it going either way, but I'm curious as to seeing what others think.

 

Hadrian mentally sneered as he followed Hagrid into Owlett’s Emporium, the stench of owl faeces assailing his nose. _‘This is vile… and why on Earth does this oaf’s allergies affect what kind of pet_ I _get? Ridiculous.’_ Hadrian glanced around, forcing himself to mute his disgust, _‘Oh look, a Snowy. Bet Mr_ Light is Right _decides to steer me for that one.’_

“Righ’ ‘Arry, wha’ do yeh re’kon?” Hagrid motioned to the birds surrounding them, “I think this ‘ere whi’ one would be good. She looks plen’y strong.”

 _‘Called it.’_ Harry shrugged, “She’s pretty nice Hagrid, but isn’t she a bit, well, obvious?”

“What?”

“Well, if I’m some kind of public figure like you keep telling me, then there’s a high chance someone will try to steal my mail isn’t there? What if she gets hurt? I could never forgive myself.” Harry sighed and looked to his feet, “Wouldn’t it be better if I got a more common type of owl? That way it would be harder for others to realise it’s my one.”

“I s’pose.”

“I just really don’t want anything to get hurt because of me.”

“I re’kon ye’ll be wan’ing an Eagle Owl then. They’re more’n strong enough for tha’, and they’re quick fliers too.”

Harry frowned, and shook his head, “Too visible.” He dodged away from Hagrid and headed deeper into the store, _‘I would like something strong enough to carry parcels, but an Eagle Owl is too obvious. Better to get something rarer if I’m going for that, for the appeal to those who don’t know me.’_ He glanced back to see Hagrid had been distracted by the shopkeeper. _‘Excellent. Now, if I was a store owner, I’d put the more expensive owls and the quick sellers at the front, which means…’_ he ducked into the back corner of the store, where he suspected the nastier birds were. _‘Hmm, no. I’m not getting a barn owl. But_ you _…’_ he smiled broadly at the owl in the next cage. _‘Aren’t you a lovely sight.’_ Harry held his hand carefully before the bars, and watched as the owl attempted to peck at it, “Now why did the storekeeper put a _lovely_ owl like you in a dark corner like this?”

Just then, the storekeeper finally realised Hagrid had been escorting someone, and tracked him down, “No boy! Get away from that cage. That bird is insane.”

Harry blinked and shot him an innocent smile, “He seems nice enough to me.” Even the owls shot him an incredulous look at that, “Look at him. If he’s been nasty to anyone, it’s probably because that cage is too small for him, and when was the last time his talons were trimmed?” The owl tensed for a moment, then proceeded to rub his head against Harry’s hand as much as he was able to through the bars of his cage, “See! He likes me.” Harry grinned at the owl, and carefully unlatched the door, removing the wire twist holding the lock shut as he did so, eliciting a shriek from the shopkeeper, but the owl only proceeded to perch happily on Harry’s shoulder and start grooming his hair.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer something else? We have some other Short-Eared Owls in stock? I’m sure your guardian would prefer you to get a younger bird.”

Harry shook his head, “No, Tychon here is perfect.” _‘And his breed’s flight pattern will make my mail harder to track.’_

 

The nervous shopkeeper led him and his passenger to the counter, “Right tehn, let me just get you a travel cage for er, Titus?”

“Tychon, and that’s unnecessary, he can meet me there.” Harry beamed at the man.

“Uh, right.”

“Wha’ d’ yeh ‘ave there ‘Arry.”

Harry turned his beaming smile on Hagrid, _‘Play nice Hadrian. Play nice.’,_ “This is Tychon, he’s a Short-Eared Owl. Isn’t he gorgeous?”

“Bi’ plain ain’ ‘e?”

“True, but that means he’ll be safer! And besides, he and I are a lot alike.”

Hagrid stared incredulously at the beaming child and the glaring dark brown speckled owl on his shoulder, “If yeh say so.”

The shopkeeper joined in then, “Right, with the owl treats, that’ll be three galleons and 7 sickles.”

Harry cocked his head to one side, “Do you have any falconer’s gloves? I don’t want my arm getting all shredded when he comes in for a landing.”

“Right. we have a normal glove, which you’ll have to put on each time, or a leather braclet which extends into a glove when given a verbal command, or a push of magic through it.”

“Can I get three of the bracelets? That way if I lose one it won’t be an issue.”

“Um, sure. That’ll be 20 galleons total then.”

Harry smiled and put the money on the counter, collecting the armbands and onehandedly dumping them into his satchel, “Can I etch my crest on them later?”  
“Yep,” The shopkeeper handed him a booklet, “This’ll explain how to go about doing it.” He paused, “Be careful with that bird.”  
“Will do.”

 

Hadrian ducked out of the shop, ahead of Hagrid and murmured to his new owl, “Listen, I need you to head towards Surrey, but once you’re out of sight, can you please fly to Malfoy Manor?” Hadrian allowed a tendril of his magic to wrap around the owl in a protective embrace, allowing his magical signature to be registered from it. “Fly safe Tychon.”


	10. Haerviu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hadrian unravels the Blood Glamour, and begins to make use of his Metamorphagi talents.

“Wher’d yeh send yer owl to ‘Arry?” Hagrid boomed out behind him.

Hadrian gritted his teeth, and forced a smile to his lips, turning to face him, “I sent him off ahead of me. I figured, since owls are a protected species in Muggle England, that I might get in trouble for having one.”

Hagrid blinked, “Oh. I er, ne’er though’ o’tha’.”

“No worries Hagrid, but, um, shouldn’t I be getting home now? I’d hate to take up too much of your day.”

“It’s no’ a pro’lem ‘Arry. Ahm ‘appy to ‘elp.”

Harry smiled brightly, “It’s fine Hagrid, Aunt Petunia will be expecting me for dinner. If I get a bus now, I can make it home in plenty of time to help.”

“Oh. Er, well if yeh wan’ to.”

“Please. That way you can get back to whatever you’d normally be doing if you weren’t escorting me.”

“Well, if yer sure.” Hagrid grabbed him by the still-bruised shoulder and started steering him back to The Leaky Cauldron, “Ah’ll jus’ summon the Knigh’ Bus fer yeh.”

 _‘Knight Bus? Must be a magical transport. Ugh, that won’t work.’_ “Actually Hagrid, I spotted a bus stop up the street from where we arrived. I can just get back using a Muggle bus.”  
“Are yeh sure?”

“Yep. I’m not exactly familiar with the Magical World, so it’s probably for the best if I use a means of transport I’m familiar with. I don’t want to get lost.”

“Okay then.” Hagrid steered him back through the near derelict pub, nodding in response to Tom’s wave, “Righ’ then. Wher’s this Muggle bus then?”

Harry pointed to a bus shelter up the street, “Right there. I’ll wait in the shelter for the next bus to Surrey.”

“Yeh’ll be safe?”  
Harry beamed up at him, “Perfectly. Thank you so much for your help Hagrid, but I’ll be safe taking my own route from here.” Hagrid nodded gruffly and headed back into the pub. _‘About bloody time! Gods, that took forever! Right, the next bus to Surrey will be in… now. Huh, that’s helpful.’_

 

Hadrian smiled thinly as the bus trundled to a stop. Clambering on, he handed the driver a tenner, then he plonked himself into the first seat he came to, his legs dangling above the ground. _‘Right I’m on the bus, now I just need to ‘disappear’ when the biggest group gets off. Good thing we’re heading through Central London to get to Surrey.’_  A smirk pulled at his lips as he stared out the window at the teeming city around him. _‘Such a pity Hagrid is going to be taking the blame if anyone realises the Boy Who Lived disappeared._ ’ The bus pulled up to another stop then, and a laughing crowd that looked on their way to a Bachelorette Party clambered on. Hadrian ducked out of the other door as they distracted the driver, _‘Right. Public bathroom, where are you?’_ Glancing around, a sign down a side street caught his eye. _‘Or, that could work too.’_ A smugly grinning Harry mentally thanked Lady Malfoy for forcing him to buy more respectable Muggle-inspired clothing from Twilfit & Tattings after she dragged him from the bookstore and ducked in through the side door of Harrods. A staff member went to stop him, but he merely stared at her, “My mother is expecting me in the Children’s Department. Father sent me in while he collects her rings from the cleaners.”

The woman blanched, “My apologies young sir, I just wanted to check if you knew where you were headed.”

Hadrian scoffed, “Of course I do. What do you take me for?” Glaring, he swept past her in pursuit of the aforementioned section. _‘Idiot. Right. May as well purchase some necessities whilst I’m here.’_ Humming absently and wandering around the mammoth Children’s department, Harry collected a series of t-shirts and athletic gear, _‘Ridiculous that wizards don’t sell this shit. Do they think Magic just makes some people fitter than others or something?’_

 

Having loaded his basket, Hadrian ducked into a changing room and, sitting on the floor before it, focused his attention on the mirror. _‘Right. Those papers from Gringotts said I have a glamour on, so should I be breaking that first, or altering my appearance?’_ He frowned contemplatively, _‘Glamour. If I intend to use this appearance for any length of time, I’d like to make sure it’s one I can maintain unconsciously.’_ He sighed and stared at himself, attempting to fix his appearance firmly in his mind. _‘Maybe if I relax my magic?’_ Hadrian closed his eyes and turned his attention inwards, letting his magic pool within his skin, noting with some confusion how it prickled slightly as if… _‘Bingo. It’s detecting that Dumbolddoor’s magic. Now, if I just let it sooth the itch, it might just…’_ Hadrian opened his eyes and looked at his reflection, _‘Excellent.’_ His emerald green eyes had shifted into a more almond shape, and an icy blue was cobwebbing out from his pupil. His cheekbones had shifted, and moved higher up his face, with his messy hair apparently staying much the same. _‘Of course, my hair’s natural. Fuck. Maybe if I grow it?’_ So, thinking, he focused on the idea of his hair lengthening to about chin length, grinning in delight as it gathered a slight curl as it did so. _‘I’m only pale because of the Dursley’s and their abuse, so I might tan later, but if I keep Harry Potter pale, and allow Heir Vasileios to show his Greek heritage with a golden tan…’_ He smirked and watched proudly as his skin darkened several shades until it appeared truly sun kissed. _‘Now as for that scar…’_ He glared as the famous scar refused to vanish, _‘Maybe if I mask it?_ He sighed and started moving one of the scars from his chest up to his face. _‘Well if nothing else, it’ll give me a ready excuse for why I’m with the Malfoys.’_ Hadrian rose to his feet and stared at the slicing scar that now cut down his forehead, through his right eyebrow, and curving back up slightly just before it hit his eyelid. _‘Interesting.’_ He frowned, hating being short, _‘If I change my height it’ll just make me clumsy in either this form, or as Harry Potter. Not a good idea. Maybe if Harry slouches slightly? Hmm… yes that works, after all, he is from an abusive background, and that will soon be coming out. Whereas Hadrian, no. Harlan? Harcourt? Harvey? Ugh, whatever. Comes from a more upper-class background. Speaking of, I need to get Lady Malfoy to teach me the etiquette.’_ A smirk grew across his face as he observed his altered features, he still looked as if he could be related to Harry Potter, but that would be almost expected considering the interconnected state of Magical Britain’s Pureblood bloodlines. Especially if anyone looked and found James Potter’s mother’s maiden name. _‘I’m a Pureblood from a Greek family, so either a Greek name, or just an old one. It needs to be easy to remember though and allow for me responding to Harry by accident. Herakles or Herodotus are ridiculous though. Maybe Old English names? Hmm… there was that ridiculous book of name meanings that Aunt Petunia had for ‘dressing’, wasn’t Haerviu an old version of Harvey? And Leander, Greek, and he ran away with Hero. If that won’t piss off the Light if they work it out, I don’t know what will. So,’_ “I’m Haerviu Leander Vasileios.” He raised an eyebrow, at the realisation his voice was slightly smoother than before, _‘I guess shifting my form healed some of the damage from chemical inhalation. Handy.’_

 

Haerviu shot his reflection one last smirk, before turning and leaving the dressing room, his soon to be purchases in hand, to see Lord Malfoy waiting on a chair outside, “Interesting look…”

“Heir Haerviu Leander Vasileios.”

“Haerviu?” The so-named boy nodded, “Interesting. I believe that was a family name of the Blacks some centuries ago. Excellent choice.”

Haerviu inclined his head, “Thank you Lord Malfoy.”

“Your welcome child.” He glanced at Haerviu’s load, “Shall we purchase those, then head back to the Manor?”

“Sounds like an excellent plan.”

“Mind telling me why your voice shifted? Or the scar on your forehead?”

“Shifting apparently healed the damage from sleeping for years in a cupboard with the household chemicals, and I moved a scar from my chest to cover the one on my forehead.”

“I see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leaning towards bi-gender or male at this point for Haerviu, but that can still change.


	11. An Old Coot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbles plots. Fawkes is incredulous.

“Le’on Sheh’bet.” The stone gargoyle slid to one side, and Hagrid ambled his way up the spiralling staircase.

“Come on in Hagrid.” The door swung open and Hagrid walked in. Dumbledore turned his smiling gaze up to him, “How was the trip with Harry, Hagrid?”

Hagrid beamed back at him, “Wunnerful Hea’mas’er. Simply wunnerful.”

“Oh?”

“‘is rela’ives dinna tell ‘im abou’ Magic though. Ah ‘ad tah do tha’. Buh I wen’ wiv ‘im to tha bank. Unfor’un’ly tha gobbins pulled ‘im asi’. ‘e re’ons tha Dursleys didn’ tell ‘im ‘e ‘ad a vault, so they insis’d on ‘im seeing ‘is Accoun’s Mana’er.” Dumbledore froze, a frosty glare starting to settle in his smiling eyes, but Hagrid didn’t notice and just continued, “They offa’d tah le’ me wai’ there for ‘im, bu’ they said it’d be a while, so ah ‘eaded tah the Leaky fer a pint firs’.”

“Do you know what they spoke of with him Hagrid?”

Hagrid blinked, “It ne’er come up.”

Dumbledore groaned mentally, _‘Useless. Utterly useless. Why didn’t I go myself?’_ “Well then Hagrid, what did come up?”

“Righ’. Ah me’ li’le ‘Arry ou’side o’the Mena’erie, buh ah took ‘im tah Owllett’s instea’, like yeh said.”

“Oh? And did he get the Snowy?”

“Nah. ‘e re’oned it were too much money fer ‘im, and tha’ it’d be in dan’er if’n anyone worked out who it belonged ter. ‘e picked out a Shor’ Eared Owl instea’. Re’oned it’d be safer.”

“…and then you did the rest of his shopping I presume?”

“Nah. ‘Arry’d alrea’y dun it. ‘e e’en ‘ad one o’tha shop kee’er’s shrink ‘is trunk fer ‘im. ‘e ‘ad it in a satchel. Re’oned it’d be easier to carry tha’ way, and ‘e said ‘e’d ben tol’ tha it’d be in ‘is dorms when ‘e got there, fully-sized. So ‘e jus’ ‘ad one set of uniform and some o’is books out.”

“I see.” Dumbledore smiled genially, while mentally swearing at Hagrid’s uselessness, “You can go enjoy the rest of your evening Hagrid. Do tell Fang I said hello.”

“o’course ‘eadmas’er. G’night sir.”

 

Dumbledore waited until his wards alerted him to Hagrid having passed the Gargoyle before springing into action. He snarled, and swept everything off of the surface of his desk, _‘Why? Why did the brat agree to go with the goblins? Why did he refuse the owl? He’s been abused! He should have been desperate for attention!’_ He paused, ignoring Fawkes’ disgusted look, _‘Of course. He’s been abused.’_ Dumbledore slowly sank back into his chair, _‘He knows that going against authority figures is a bad idea, and who’s more of an authority figure than a banker?’_ A slow smile stretched across his lips, _‘And abused children are often more independent, he must have realised that Hagrid wasn’t waiting, and elected to fulfil his list himself. As for the trunk, the shopkeeper must have convinced the boy to let him shrink it, after all, no child his age would think of that. Not even a Slytherin.’_ He sighed in relief, _‘No. Everything is well on track.’_ Dumbledore lent back in his chair, _‘And independence of that degree – in a child that young – the boy is_ meant _for Gryffindor.’_

 

Humming happily, he started digging into his bowl of lemon sherbet, utterly oblivious to the stunned looks being exchanged by the portraits and phoenix around him. “Yes. Everything is going according to plan. The boy will be ready to face Tom when he comes for the Stone. All I have to do is wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far we're looking at two votes male - one vote bigender. Anyone else wanting to proffer an opinion?  
> Being aware that this currently applies only to Haerviu. Hadrian may still develop a female alias.


	12. Welcome to the Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haerviu arrives at Malfoy Manor.

Draco watched in confusion as his mother unpacked Harry’s purchases into the room next door to his own, _‘Why does she think this is a good idea? It’s not as if we’ll see Harry before we get to the Hogwarts’ Express.’_

Narcissa hummed, as she commanded the house elves to change the bedding, “Draco! How long have you been there?”

Draco raised an eyebrow, “I’ve been here as long as you Mother.” He hesitated and cocked his head to one side, “What exactly are you doing? Harry went back to his Muggle relatives.”

Narcissa smiled and pulled him into a hug, “True, but he and your father have a plan to allow him to stay with us.”

“Oh?”

She smiled down at him, “Let’s just say that he inherited the Black Gift.”

Draco’s jaw dropped, “He’s a Metamorphagus?”  
“Indeed.”

A _crack_ echoed through the room and a house elf appeared, “Master Lord Malfoy is back. He’s be bringing a guest. He’s be asking for yous in the entrance hall.”

Narcissa sighed, and inspected the room, straightening the line of the bedspread, “Thank you Dobby. We’ll be right down.” She turned to face Draco, “It seems their plan paid off.”

Draco beamed and took off at a run, “I’ll see you there, Mother.”

 

* * *

 

Haerviu looked around the room Lord Malfoy had _apparated_ them into. _‘Interesting. So, the Malfoys are indeed rich enough to explain how they’ve maintained their Lordship. Interesting.’_ Hadrian took a step back, and bowed to Lord Malfoy, as Draco rushed into the room, “Thank you for your hospitality Lord Malfoy.”

Draco skidded to a halt, and gave him a puzzled look, “Harry?”

Lord Malfoy smirked, “The pleasure is all mine Heir Vasileios, welcome to my home.”

Haerviu smirked at Draco, “Yes indeed. Though at the moment it’s Haerviu Leander Vasileios, Heir Vasileios.”

Draco grinned, “Really?”

“Yes.” Haerviu’s smirk broadened, “I’m actually Heir Vasileios through James Potter’s mother, though thankfully the bloodline is all but extinct in the male line, and it interbred enough that Dumbledore and his allies will have a _lot_ of trouble tracking down where I came from.” He shrugged, “From what the ring implied, the estate was entailed, and I’m the first male member of the line to claim the title since my great grandfather… and his son died at Grindelwald’s hands.”

Lord Malfoy watched in bemusement as Draco followed on from where Hadrian left off, “So, there’s enough of a confusion that the Old Coot won’t be able to work out who you are?”

“Precisely.” Hadrian grinned at him, “That son died childless, but prior to his death, he’d married a Muggleborn, who disappeared in the wake of her husband’s death. So, I highly doubt Dumbledore will be able to eliminate the possibility of him as my grandfather without the Goblins helping him, and they’re currently about as pissed off with him as I am.” He shrugged, “It won’t be a problem.”

Lord Malfoy interceded then, “House Vasileios has long been an ally of House Malfor, and since House Malfor is currently dormant, as their Branch House, House Malfoy is a plausible House to hold the Heir to an all but extinct allied house as ward.” A smirk played across his face, “If you were an orphaned, presumed Muggleborn in Europe, who’d just been acknowledged as Heir to the House, then we would be notified as the closest Allied House, and thus the best possible choice to guide said Heir into our World.”

Haerviu turned his smirk on him, “Precisely why I chose the House I did as my current alias.”

 

Lady Malfoy swept into the room, flicking her eyes over him, pausing at the sight of his odd-coloured eyes, she smiled at the sight of his signet ring, and dropped into a curtsey, “Welcome to Malfoy Manor Heir Vasileios. It is an honour to have you here.”

Haerviu smiled at her, “It is an honour and a privilege to be here Lady Malfoy.”

She mirrored his smile, and motioned to Draco, “I’m glad you evaded your Muggle relatives Heir Vasileios. I took the liberty of preparing a room for you in the Heir’s Wing, Draco can escort you there.” She turned to her son, “Draco?”

“Yes Mother.” He smiled at Haerviu, “Mother put you next to me. I hope you like it.” His smile expanded into a beaming smile, “Follow me, uh? Is Harry still okay?”

Haerviu smiled back at him, “It’s fine Draco, though I’d prefer Haerviu in public, Harry is a perfectly acceptable nickname.”

 

Draco beamed at him, and grabbed his arm, dragging Haerviu back the way Draco had so recently run. Draco’s parents smiled after them. Lord Malfoy murmured to his wife, “I’m not sure whether to be concerned for how quickly they’ve bonded, or pleased Draco’s made such an influential friend.”

His wife smiled at him, “Both I think. There’s something rather cold about young Haerviu, but he seems rather fond of Draco, even if he’s the only one.”

“Fair.”

 

* * *

 

Draco quickly led Haerviu back to the room, swinging open the door to show the suite within. Haerviu took a step in after Draco, and stared around in shock, “This is incredible.”

“Eh. It’s not bad.” Draco glanced around, “The bedroom’s through that door, and there’s a bathroom and dressing room leading off of it. Mother thought the green and black of the Naga would be more appealing to you than the red and gold of Vasileios, as red and gold seem a bit too Gryffindor for you.”

Haerviu smirked, “Fair point. Red and Gold are a bit Christmassy.”

Draco beamed at him, “Mother unpacked your purchases, so the books should be out here, while the rest will be in the other room.” He glanced around, “Want me to show you to the library before dinner?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Currently 3 for 3 on the gender discussion, I'll let you know when I elect to implement the final decision :)


	13. Snape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!
> 
> Haerviu meets Snape for the first time, and has a flashback to his time in his uncle's care.

_“FREAK! Look what you did!” Aunt slapped it across the face, “Diddikin’s cake is ruined thanks to you!” Freak shook its head, trying to explain that it had been outside trimming the roses until Aunt called it in. Cousin sneered at it from the doorway, as Aunt continued, “NO! I don’t want to hear your excuses you good for nothing brat! Get in your cupboard. Vernon can deal with you when he gets home.”_

_Freak stared at Aunt in horror, its small frame wracked with shudders, “I-I w-was o-ou’side…”_

_Cousin slammed it to the floor, “Mum tol’ you ta’ shuh up.”_

_Freak yelped as it crashed to the floor, “Sowwy. Sowwy.” It crawled from the room, and back to the cupboard, whimpering as it did so._

_Freak rocked itself back and forth in its corner of the dark cupboard, whimpering silently. A car door slammed, followed by the front door. Its cupboard door ripped open. Uncle’s snarling face loomed in the doorway. Freak shivered and crawled deeper into the shadows. Uncle ripped it from the cupboard, “You ruined my boy’s day you little FREAK! Come with me.” Uncle pulled it through the kitchen to the basement, and threw it on the floor, “You’re going to pay for that_ Freak _!” Uncle sneered at it, unbuckling his trousers as he did so, “You deserve everything coming to you.”_

 

* * *

 

Haerviu whimpered under the covers of his bed, his eyes whipping around under his eyelids, malevolent magic seeping from his pores and oozing out of the room. The door slowly creaked open, and Draco’s blonde head peered into the room, “Harry? Are you okay in here?” He gasped at the sight of Haerviu’s magic leaking from his pores, “HARRY!” Draco rushed to his side, and pulled the covers off of his face, staring in shock at the fear-distorted face behind him, “Oh Merlin. Haerviu…” Draco sunk onto the bed next to him, and slowly ran his hand through Haerviu’s hair, “Come on, Haerviu, wake up. It’s okay.”

Haerviu shifted slightly and tensed up, the waves of his magic intensifying as he cringed in terror, “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

Draco sighed, and laid down next to him, pulling him into his arms, and trying to push his magic out to sooth his companion’s, “It’s okay. I’m here.” Haerviu gave a terrified groan and started thrashing in his arms. Draco grimaced, and tightened his hold, letting his voice lilt upwards as he started to sing, “Au clair de la lune

Mon ami Pierrot

Prete-moi ta plume

Pour écrire un mot.

////

Ma chandelle est morte

Je n'ai plus de feu

Ouvre-moi ta porte

Pour l'amour de Dieu…”

 

Haerviu slowly relaxed, as Draco’s magic finally eased from his core and started to soothe Haerviu’s. He slowly blinked open his odd-coloured eyes and struggled to focus on Draco, “D-draco? Wha-what’s going on?” He finally rasped out.

Draco pulled him into a proper hug, “Your magic was seeping out. It woke me up, so I came to see what was going on. Are you okay?”

Haerviu slowly sat up, rubbing his forehead with a wince, “I’m fine.” He pulled away from Draco, “It was just a nightmare.”

“If you say so.” Draco gave him a concerned look, “It’s still early, breakfast isn’t for another hour or so, want to go fly while we wait?”

Haerviu nodded slowly, “Sure, but how?”

“Right. Muggle-raised.” Draco pulled himself from the bed, and started digging through the wardrobe, “We need exercise-y clothes.” Draco pulled a pair of trackpants from the closet, “What are these?”

Haerviu smirked, “Muggle athletic pants.”

“Really? Weird.” Draco hummed and tossed them to Haerviu as he continued digging, “Mind helping me out in here?”

Haerviu snorted and clambered off of the bed, pushing Draco aside and pulling out a green and black ombre t-shirt, pulling it over his head, “There. I’m dressed.” He tugged out a pair of sneakers from the shoe-shelf in the closet, “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Draco handed Haerviu a broomstick, “Right so this is a Cleansweep Twelve. Do you remember the handgrips I showed you?”

Haerviu rolled his eyes at him, “Of course I do. You _only_ went over them at least twenty or so times.”

Draco gave him a playful glare and stuck his tongue out, “Right. Sort yourself out then.” Draco kicked off and flew up into the air, “Catch me if you can mon ami.”

Haerviu glared up at him, “You utter git.” He sighed and examined the broom in his hand, before shrugging and kicking off after him, grinning at the rush of speed as he caught up to Draco. “So, what are we doing?”

Draco shrugged, “I forgot to bring a snitch, so how about a race?” Haerviu shrugged, weighing it up, before he shot past Draco, the wind caused by his speed buffeting Draco as he shot around the Quidditch Pitch. Draco let out an incredulous squeal and sped after him.

 

A dark-clad figure strode up the drive from the Manor gates, his usual scowl alleviated at the thought of spending time with his best friend and his godson. He glanced up at the sound of brilliant laughter echoed from the quidditch pitch, and stared in shock at the sight of the two figures rocketing around up there. He sighed and strode in the direction of the pitch.  He pointed his wand at his throat, “Sonorous.” He took in a deep breath, “DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” One of the figures pulled their broom to a smooth halt, as the other seemed to wince in mid-air and erratically flew down to the ground, “Finite incantatum.”

His godson threw himself from his broom as he got close, crashing into Severus Snape in a crushing hug, “UNCLE SEV!!!!!!!!”

 

The other figure slowly circled lower, giving them time to exchange greetings, before they finally dismounted near the two of them. The darker haired boy rested the broom at his side, as he slowly walked over, giving Snape time to disentangle himself, before extending his hand for a handshake, “Haerviu Vasileios, Heir Vasileios and current ward of House Malfoy.”

Snape blinked, before grasping the hand in his own, “Severus Snape, Scion Prince, Potion’s Master and Head of House for House Slytherin at Hogwarts.”

The boy smiled at him, shaking his hand, “It’s an honour to meet you Master Snape. Draco has told me a lot about you.”

The wizard in question raised an eyebrow, shooting a look at his blushing godson, “Is that so?”

Draco winced, “Maybe?” He glanced around, obviously in search of something to distract them with, “We’d better head to breakfast though before Mother gets annoyed.”


	14. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haerviu gives Severus some hints as to his story, though Severus still doesn't grasp the entirety of the story.

Severus watched the apparent Heir Vasileios as he interacted with the Malfoy family over breakfast, _‘He doesn’t eat like one of his birth. Hell, he eats more like I did as a child fresh sorted into Slytherin. Careful, but following after the others to ensure the correct cutlery is used. Strange.’_ He turned his head at the sound of a delicately cleared throat, “Yes Narcissa?”

She glowered at him, “Lucius tells me the Headmaster has you helping to arrange some sort of security within the school?”

Severus blinked, choosing to reply instead of addressing the rampant curiosity in his godson’s eyes, and the better shielded interest in those of the dark-haired boy sitting beside him, “Yes. Ridiculous if I may be so frank. He’s convinced the _item_ will be safer hidden in the school than it will in Gringotts.”

The Heir Vasileios cocked his head to one side, “It’s certainly logical from a certain standpoint.”  
Severus arched an eyebrow, curious as to the thought patterns of this child, “Oh?”

He hummed, “Yes. It’s a double bluff of sorts. If he’s hiding it in the school, then it suggests the one he’s hiding it from knows him, and thus likely the school as well, in which case it would be logical that the school is the last place anyone would look, as it would be extremely foolish to hide it there. Also, as the apparent leader of the ‘Light’, no-one in their right minds would believe him willing to risk the lives of the students.” He smiled coldly, “Meaning it’s the last place he would logically hide an item of the importance it must necessarily hold in order to require this much effort.”

Lucius smiled at the boy, “Well reasoned Haerviu.” He shot Severus an apologetic glance, “Would you happen to have any idea as to what it could be?”

_‘Haerviu? That’s an old name. But not a Family Name for House Vasileios. Interesting. He’s oddly intelligent for someone who looks to be younger than Draco. Pity his House is Greek, he’ll most likely wind up at Durmstrang.’_

Haerviu gave an innocent smile, “I have many ideas Lord Malfoy, but little if any evidence for them.” He shrugged, “I look forward to learning what it is when the Gryffindors inevitably reveal it.”

Severus snorted, “Well, you’re not wrong. I fully expect the Weasley twins to find their way to at least the first component within the first week.”

Draco snorted at that, and turned to explain to his companion, “Uncle Sev says they’re second only to the Marauders in terms of detentions earned per year.”

“The Marauders?”  
Severus snorted, and watched with curiosity, out of the corner of his eye, as Lucius winced slightly, “A quartet of malicious pranksters who thought attempted murder was a hilarious joke.

“Oh?”

Lucius grimaced and turned to face Haerviu, “Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and James Potter.”

Haerviu raised an eyebrow, “The father of the Boy Who Lived?” He hummed in amusement as Lucius inclined his head in a nod, “Interesting that a werewolf, a Black, a Deatheater and a presumed paragon of the Light are able to be linked together in such a way.”

Severus stared at him in curiosity, meeting his strange-coloured eyes, “You name Black and Deatheater separately, why is that?”

Haerviu sighed, and pushed his food away, “I’m afraid Sirius Black was my father.” He raised a hand to prevent Severus’ instinctive response, “I do not hold to my father’s beliefs however, but I can confirm that Lord Black arranged for his adoption as a ward of the House of Potter as a direct result of his Blood Oath to never serve the one known as Voldemort, and his mother’s reaction to it.” He smiled wryly, “That is why I name Black and Deatheater separately. Sirius Black was never a Deatheater, and it strikes me as curious that a blasting curse left only a finger behind, especially when you consider the fact that my few memories of my parents show my father as an Animagus.” The others at the table stared at Haerviu in shock as he continued, “The fact that he referred to Lupin as ‘Moony’ tells me he was a werewolf, which explains how and when my father began an Animagus, suggesting the other two members of the group were likely the same.”

Lucius smirked at Severus, “…and that Severus, is the reason I wanted to talk to you. Haerviu was regrettably placed under some rather regrettable compulsions as a child and we were hoping you’d be able to assist in breaking them.”

Severus cocked his head to one side, “What kind of compulsions?”

Draco stared in shock, revealing his lack of knowledge on the subject, as Haerviu grimaced, “A combination. Several Hate charms, a number intended to foster trust, love, _obedience_ … and one specific one to hate ‘Snivellous’.”

Severus groaned, “Black.”

“Yep. I’d love to know why my father placed it on me, but due to his current living conditions, I can’t exactly ask him.”

Lucius sighed, before continuing, “Haerviu’s previous living conditions were _inappropriate_ , and as a result, we’re having to correct a great deal of injustices. This is just one among the many.”

Haerviu gave Severus a cold smile, “Though I would appreciate a Wizard’s Oath to ensure you don’t reveal any information you glean from my mind in the process.”

Severus narrowed his eyes, “Not an Unbreakable?”

“No. I have no desire to cost Draco his godfather, but I would appreciate some form of surety to prevent the instigator of the hell that was my early life from learning any of the information you’ll be exposed to. I understand that you may at some stage be forced to reveal some of it, thus why I want it worded in such a way that you _can_ speak of it, but only when I grant permission.”

Severus inclined his head, “That seems reasonable Heir Vasileios. If I may, why are you with the Malfoys?”

“The official story will be that my guardians requested Gringotts get in touch with an appropriate authority to educate me in the responsibilities of my station. I will of course, continue to reside with my guardians during the course of the Hogwarts’ term, but visit with the Malfoys over the breaks. This will allow me to continue my previous method of carrying out my studies as a home-educated individual.”

“And the unofficial?”  
“Is something you will learn when you aid me in recovering my mind.”


	15. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus learns the truth...

Severus followed behind Haerviu and Lucius on the way to Lucius’ study, watching Haerviu’s posture in confusion, _‘He walks like a Pureblood, but something isn’t quite right._ _He’s too silent.’_ He listened to the sound of Lucius’ footsteps clicking on the floor, and raised one eyebrow at the lack of sound coming from the boots of the boy before him, _‘No child that age should walk like that. Not without training.’_ Severus snapped back to attention at the sight of the door swinging open before them. Lucius waved them in, and moved to sit behind his desk, “Take a seat.” Severus blinked, and watched as Haerviu seemed to assess him, before moving to the chairs by the window and taking the seat closer to Lucius, leaving the one nearer the door free for Severus.

Severus raised an eyebrow, moving to take his seat, before returning his attention to the boy before him, as Lucius turned to a book he’d removed from a stack atop his desk, “The oath then?”

Haerviu gave him a slow smirk, “Indeed.” He paused, considering, “I Severus Tobias Snape do swear on my magic that I will not reveal the secrets of Haerviu Vasileios without his permission, unless he tells me otherwise, nor will I attempt to harm him in the process of removing the devices within his mind which he has granted me access to deal with.” A glow of magic sealed his oath, and he raised his wand, “Lumos.” The wand lit up, and Haerviu gave him a nod in acknowledgement. Severus sighed, “Do you know occlumency or legilimency?”  
“Afraid not. I’m apparently a natural occlumens, but it’s been partially blocked.”

Severus grimaced, _‘Who would do that to a child’s mind?’_ “Right. Well this will likely hurt then.” He took a breath, “You’ll need to work to relax your mind as much as you can, and allow me to rifle through your mind as much as I can. Is it only compulsions or are there blocks?”

Haerviu grimaced, “Lucius?” He grabbed a bundle of parchment out of the air and handed it to Severus, “May I say in advance that I am not the boy the Light has painted me as?”

Severus gave him a confused look, before turning to the papers, “POTTER?” He slammed to his feet, and turned to face Lucius, “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?” A soft noise broke through his rage, and he turned to see a shaking Potter curled in a ball, his fist buried in his mouth to stifle any noise he might make. He shot Lucius a panicked look, “What happened?”

Lucius rose to his feet, “Did I not tell you his guardians were inappropriate?” He knelt next to Harry and attempted to calm him, “Read the rest of the parchment Severus. He’s not what you were led to expect.” He sighed, “Haerviu is as much a mask as any I’ve known.”

 

Severus froze and reached for the parchment, sinking heavily into his chair as he read the rest of the paperwork, staring in horror at the sight of the medical report, “Dumbledore, he…”

A hoarse voice spoke from within Lucius’ arms, “The goblins told me he was my Magical Guardian… but I only met him once.” A gulping sob, “I remember Padfoot chasing me around the lounge. I remember Mum picking me up as Dad let a funny looking old man in. I remember him introducing himself to me as Albus Dumbledore. I remember Padfoot shifting back into Siri and sitting by the fire with me.” Lucius stepped back, allowing Haerviu space to meet Severus’ eyes. “I remember that night. Dad was casting bubbles to amuse me and Mum. I saw Peter open the gate from the outside, and a dark figure entered, thanking him as he did so. Mum gasped, and took me from Dad’s arms, running up the stairs. There was a flash of green light and a thump. The nursery door slammed open. The man entered, and told her to step aside and let him kill me. He asked her three times, but she refused. Another flash of green, and she crashed to the floor. I wriggled out of her arms and he sneered down at me, _“Pity”_ before he cast again and all I knew was blinding pain. Then I remember you stepping over his body and crying over Mum. Then nothing, until Uncle Siri was handing me over to Hagrid, and heading off to find Peter to give him to the Aurors.” Haerviu smiled sadly, “I woke up to Aunt Petunia screaming at me among the milk bottles. I was cold and hungry. I was always cold and hungry after that, just sometimes with more or less pain depending on Uncle Vernon’s temper.”

Severus stared at him, “Why would Albus…”

Haerviu stared flatly at him, “Power. As the only one to know where I am, he controls the narrative. Then add in the effects of him rescuing the poor little orphan from his abusive relatives and bringing him to a world of magic… what do you think he would have got if I hadn’t broken the way I did?”

Severus froze, “Broken?”

“I don’t see people. I see tools. I remember love, and feeling it… but after _that_ night, the closest I get is possessiveness.” He shrugged, “I mean, maybe, I’ll learn to care again, but as it stands, I was punished so harshly for the slightest thing, even things that never existed outside their minds… I doubt I hold any emotions.”

Lucius stared in horror, “How?”

Haerviu smiled coldly at him, “Casting the Killing Curse splits the soul. What do you think it does to those it hits?”

Severus stared in his own horror, “You’re not human, anymore are you?”

“I am in body.” He sighed, “Relax, I have no intention of going full psycho on you. The Muggles would class me as Psychopathic, not Psychotic. It just means I work on logic not emotions. If you don’t betray me, then I won’t have any need to betray you.”

Lucius snorted, calming as he listened, “You’re the perfect Pureblood Heir, aren’t you? You’re a Ward of the House, as far as I’m concerned, you’re family.”  
“Thank you Lord Malfoy.”  
Severus analysed the child, more aware of the meaning of the definition than his friend, _‘That’s not how a Muggle would class a psychopath. A psychopath is born. A sociopath is made by abuse.’_ He froze, _‘But a psychopath is often missing the regions of the brain that govern emotions, while a sociopath has them atrophy. If the Killing Curse damaged his soul… then it actually makes sense. That poor child.’_ Severus nodded, “I have no intention of revealing this Haerviu. From my understanding the form of possessiveness you hold will mimic love in that you refuse to abandon those you claim?”

“Unless they betray me.”

Severus nodded in understanding, “Then I would ask you protect Draco as if he were your own. Do that, and I will keep your secrets.”

Haerviu smiled, “He’s already mine. We’re Magically Synchronous.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't mean to be offensive in my descriptions of either Sociopaths or Psychopaths. This is a simplified description of a condition we still know little about.


	16. Legilimency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape works to restore Haerviu's mind...

Haerviu took in a deep breath and met Severus’s eyes. Severus stared at him through void-black eyes and cast silently…

 

 _Severus stepped forward into a void of blackness. He raised an eyebrow, impressed despite himself, and made to move forward, only to slam into a wall. He snarled, and watched in confusion as Haerviu managed to manifest a witchlight before his eyes. He stood in an inky void, with a single door before him, emblazoned with a brass 4. Severus raised an eyebrow and opened the door, entering a muggle library. Dusty books lay scattered across the floor, only a few correctly placed on their proper shelves._ ‘Oh Merlin. How is he sane?’ _Severus took in a deep breath, and stepped further into the room, following the bobbing ball of green light, as it led him through the shelves to an oddly shaped door hidden in a shadowy corner. The light bobbed in place for a moment, before squeezing itself through the vent in the white door. Severus swallowed and undid the bolts, slowly opening the door, only to stare in horror at the bloodied, slumbering boy within. A young Harry Potter, maybe still only fifteen months old, lay before him, protectively wrapped in a long black snake. The snake flared its hood and hissed at him, causing the boy to stir, and sit up. He cringed and curled as far back as he could in the dark space, hissing unintelligibly at Severus._ ‘Of course he only speaks Parseltongue. Why make it easier?’ _Severus sighed and sat down on the dirt strewn floor, “Hello. My name’s Severus. What’s yours?”_

_The boy cocked his head to one side, confused, as the snake wrapped itself tighter around him, “Hawwy.”_

_“Hello Harry. I was asked to check on you. Will you let me?” Severus struggled not to flinch, as Harry shook his head and clutched the hissing snake closer to him. He sighed, “You sure? I used to know your mother you know. Did she ever talk about me?” Harry shook his head. “That’s a shame. Her name was Lily you know, she was my best friend.”_

_Harry blinked, “Weally?”_

_“Yes indeed. We lived near each other when we were children.” Harry narrowed his eyes at him, and shifted closer, “I first met her at the park, when we were about seven. She was floating off the swings at the top of their arch.” Severus smiled at the memory, and worked to ignore the sensation of a small, warm body and its scaly accoutrement, pressing against his side. “We stopped talking for a time when I was fifteen though. I said something I shouldn’t have, and she wouldn’t let me apologise.”_

_Severus turned at the sensation of a small hand tugging on his sleeve, to see an analytical gaze coming out of eyes far too young, “Heal me.”_

_Severus smiled at him and started casting, knowing the healing of the ‘wounds’ to the physical manifestation of the mind would serve to break the remaining blocks and compulsions laid upon the physical form. Finally he sighed, and laid down his wand, “Done.”_

_Harry shook his head, “Tom too.”_

_Severus choked, “Tom?” A glaring Harry pointed to the snake still coiled around him, and a newly nervous Severus began the same series of treatments. Finally he nodded and lowered his wand, “That should be everything Little One.”_

_Harry stared at him, “Tank you.” Before retreating back into the cupboard with his snake, the door slamming shut behind him. Severus barely had enough time to notice the books suddenly shelving themselves, and the dust evaporating from the floor, before he was thrown from the boy’s mind._

 

Severus let out a gasp and came to, just in time to see Lucius catch a collapsing Haerviu. “Severus, what?”

Severus coughed, and spoke hoarsely, “There was more damage than I expected.” He grimaced, clearing his throat, “He’ll likely be unconscious until his mind finishes recalibrating itself.”

Lucius sighed, and lifted Haerviu into his arms, “I’ll take him to his room then. I’ll be back down soon Severus.” Lucius paused, and shot him an odd look, “Help yourself to the bourbon, you look like you need it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, but thinking of turning this into a crossover... as I thought of someone who'd be an interesting person for Haerviu to claim had raised him thus far... thoughts???
> 
> If I do though, it will likely only kick in fully second or third year...


	17. Exploring the Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Severus explains to the Malfoy adults what they should expect in terms of the bond between the two boys...

_‘What did the boy go through for his mind to be in_ that _much turmoil?’_ Severus sat slumped in the chair, staring into the fire burning in the grate, _‘My mind becomes disordered in a similar, albeit much milder, fashion after cruciatis… but for a_ child _to have that degree of damage? What happened?’_ He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, _‘And that’s without counting the damage to his mental form… or the dual nature of it._ _If he were an Animagus, then his mental form would be either in animal or human form, not both simultaneously. There is no logical way that both could be expressed simultaneously. The only options are some form of split personality, which is doubtful due the fact they’re aware of each other, or… some sort of ill-done possession.’_ He paled, _‘Which means he it is likely the Dark Lord… but surely Dumbledore checked for that? Oh,_ _I kidding…. He either ‘forgot’ to check, or he thinks it’s the so-called power he knows not… which explains the Stone coming into play now. He wants to bait the boy and see if he’s gone dark.’_ “Fuck.”

A snort came from the chair opposite, previously occupied by Haerviu, and Severus jumped, only just noticing Lucius’ presence, “I understand the sentiment Severus, but would you mind sharing what drew  _you,_ of all people, to such an invective? 

Severus gave him a baleful glare, which melted quickly into a lost, horrified look, “His mind was more badly damaged than anything I’ve seen. He shouldn’t be sane. _Hell_ he shouldn’t be alive!”

Lucius stared, “You’re certain?”

“The compulsions and binds were bad enough, but the rest? I’ve seen less damage to someone post torture by the Dark Lord.”

Lucius groaned and buried his head in his hands, “Lords…” He froze and set Severus with a terrified stare, “You get to tell Narcissa.”

Severus paled and stared at him in horror, as a low chuckle came from the doorway, “No need.”

Lucius paled further and gave her a forced smile, “Narcissa…”

“I heard Severus Lucius. There’s nothing further to be said.” She gave Severus a flat stare, “Need I assume your vow stops you from speaking further?” At Severus’ nod, she continued, “Then all we can do is wait and support him as he finds his feet. Is there anything we’ll need to do to help him heal?”

Severus sighed, “Perhaps.” He grimaced, “Normally I’d advise isolation to allow him to heal the damage. But in this case… it might be better to allow him to form bonds with others of his age… even if he does wind up manipulating them.”

Narcissa shot him a quick look, “Oh?”

He inclined his head, “Yes. Draco is safe from him. He assured me he considers Draco ‘his’, which will mean he’ll protect him. Manipulating him seriously would remove whatever it is that interests him about Draco.”

Lucius frowned, “Father said the same things about the Dark Lord.”

Severus inclined his head once more, “True, but Draco and Haerviu are Magically Synchronous… that means that they are naturally balanced. They _could_ manipulate each other… but to do so would actually hurt them mentally. Haerviu may only have those morals he learns… and struggle to understand why some of them are important to us… but cases of Magical Synchronicity are the only ones in which those with Psychopathic tendencies tend to demonstrate any appreciable degree of affection or remorse.”

Narcissa cocked her head to one side, perching herself on Lucius’ lap, “So Draco is safe, but not his friends?”

Severus snorted, “Draco is the _only_ one that Haerviu won’t see as a tool.” He sighed, “A Sociopath will often feel emotions, but not understand them… leading to instability. They’re broken to a point where that part of the brain doesn’t work properly. A _Psychopath_? They develop without that portion of the brain, or they’re born with it significantly smaller than would be considered normal. As a result, they generally only care about themselves, and their emotions generally exist only as masks… or _much_ milder forms of those we experience.”

Lucius’ frown deepened, “And Haerviu?”

“Is the latter. He may feel some degree of affection towards you and your family in time, but it is doubtful he will ever understand love itself.”

Narcissa frowned again, “So the only person he can care for is Draco?”

“The only person he can care for in a manner we would see as incorporating true emotions, yes. He’ll likely become extremely possessive of both Draco, and possibly the two of you due to your relationship to Draco, to the extent that he may well see Draco as an extension of himself.”

Narcissa smiled wryly, “I’m unsure whether to be reassured or worried.”

Lucius frowned, “What does this mean for Draco?”

“For starters? Don’t sign any marriage contracts. Even if Haerviu and he don’t wind up intimate… Haerviu will likely do anything he can to make Draco happy… even if that means killing off an unwanted fiancée.”

“…and if they do become _intimate_?”

Severus snorted, “Well then Lucius, what do you think would happen to an already possessive friendship in the face of a challenge to it?”

Narcissa snorted, “I’m assuming he’d make my sister look like the safe one.”

“Fair assumption. Though without the insanity. Any such action would be thought out to the point where we’d only be able to identify it as his work if he _wanted_ us to.” Severus shook his head, “Even the most stupid of Psychopaths have a cold calculated intelligence to them, and that’s the Muggle ones. The Magical? The only time they fall beneath the genius level is when there’s some sort of medical reason, whether that be curse or brain damage.”

Lucius grimaced, “Good thing he likes Draco then.”

“Indeed.”

Narcissa smiled, “I think it’s mutual to be honest.” At the men’s confused glances, her smile broadened into a grin, “Draco elected to sleep atop his covers to make sure he doesn’t have another nightmare.”

Lucius groaned, “Of _course_ he did.”

Severus stared at her, “They’re that close already?”

“Yes. Whatever is forming between them… it definitely goes both ways.” She snorted, “And given the admiring looks Draco’s been sending him… I fully expect it to sway to intimate once they’re old enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is probably heading down the Drarry route.... but it will be extremely slow burn. They'll be lucky to wind up together by 4th Year...


	18. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...more information on the Bond.

Draco lay curled around Haerviu’s sleeping form, listening to the Moonlight Sonata playing on his gramophone, as he waited for his almost friend to awaken. He sighed, and snuggled closer, feeling a warmth in his magic as it coiled itself around Haerviu. He didn’t move even at the sound of the door to the room slowly opening, “Draco?”

“Mother.”

Narcissa slipped into the room, and sat carefully beside her son, running her hand through his hair, where his head lay cushioned on Haerviu’s chest, “Oh, Love. You can’t stay here forever Darling.”

“He needs me.”

“He’s healing Draco. There was a lot of damage to his mind. Severus fixed what he could, but Haerviu needs to do the rest on his own.”

“I know that Mother.” Draco leant up, taking a worried look at Haerviu’s slumbering face.

“Then why won’t you leave the room?”

“Because his magic needs mine.” He rolled over, maintaining contact with Haerviu’s body, to meet his mother’s worried gaze, “He’s healing _slowly_. As long as I’m in contact with him, his magic can use mine to help.” He gave her a soft smile, “I want to help.”

Narcissa stared at him in shock for several moments, before visibly pulling herself back together, “Very well Draco. If you’re sure?”

“I am.”

“Then I’ll send for Severus. Maybe he can give us a better idea of how long this will take.” She gave her son a tight smile, before slipping back out of the room.

“Thank you Mother.” She gave him a softer smile, before pulling the door shut behind her, as Draco coiled himself back around Haerviu.

 _‘Please wake soon Haerviu.’_ Draco slowly drifted off to sleep, still curled tightly around his companion.

  

* * *

 

 

Narcissa sighed as she shut the door softly behind her, turning to Lucius, where he stood waiting just out of sight of the room within, “Well?”

“Draco claims he’s feeding him magic to speed the healing process.” She gave a wry smile, “Apparently that’s why he isn’t leaving the room. Haerviu needs the extra magic to heal quickly.”

Lucius pinched the bridge of his nose, “I’ll send for Severus.”

“Thank you Lucius.” He gave her a sharp nod and headed down the hallway back to his office.

 

* * *

 

 

Severus snarled, slamming his quill back into the inkwell, and shoving his pile of parchment aside, at the sound of a floo activation coming from the fireplace, “WHAT?”

_“My apologies Severus, but Draco is still refusing to leave Haerviu’s room.”_

“Have you tried asking him why?”

_“Narcissa just did. Apparently Haerviu is healing too slowly on his own, so Draco is feeding him magic to speed up the process.”_

“I’m coming through.”

 

* * *

 

Severus stepped from the fire, to see a plainly worried Lucius standing before him, with a much calmer Narcissa at his side, _‘Lucius, you are_ such _a hypochondriac.’_ “Where are they then?”

Narcissa smiled, and led the way to the door, “Haerviu’s room still. The way Draco was speaking, I think they’re already able to sense each other’s magic fluidly.”

Severus stumbled, “ _What?”_

“He said that Haerviu’s magic is healing him slowly, so it’s using his to speed the process.” She held the door to Haerviu’s room open, letting him see Draco coiled around Haerviu like his namesake around the apples of Olympus. She gave Severus a sad smile, then stepped into the room, “Draco darling, Severus would like to talk to you.”

“Hmm?” Draco raised his head, turning slightly to meet his mother’s gaze, “What about?”

 

Severus frowned, and silently cast a spell letting him see the magic in the room, only to gasp in shock at the sight of the two boys. Haerviu lay there, with his blackish-green magic coiled tightly beneath his skin, while Draco’s silvery magic enveloped the two of them in a cocoon, making it almost impossible to see where the two of them separated. Hair like tendrils of Haerviu’s power licking out from his skin, with tight ropes of Draco’s coiling around them, and flowing into his flesh. He choked and released the spell, “Draco was right.” Narcissa and Lucius stared at him, incredulous, as Draco just gave a small smile, “He’s funnelling his magic into Haerviu. But it isn’t draining him like it should.” He frowned, “Why is that Draco?”

Draco froze, before pulling out an obviously fake smile, “No idea.”

Narcissa glared at him, “Draco.”

His shoulders slumped, “Fine. It’s a reciprocal cycle. I’m pushing my magic in, but most of what it’s doing is granting his the freedom of movement, and then it returns to me. It’s barely a drain.”

Severus groaned silently, _‘These two are going to drive us all insane. They shouldn’t be that tightly bound yet. Their magic hasn’t even matured!’_ He sighed, “From what I can tell, Haerviu is preparing to awaken. He should be back with us by morning at the latest.”

Draco beamed, “Awesome. A week of just sitting here is _incredibly_ boring.”


	19. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haerviu wakes up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short :(

_Haerviu sat on a comfy couch in the centre of a vast library. Massive dark oak bookshelves spanned out in ever broadening concentric circles from where he sat, a maze-like path wending its way outward through the shelves. He smiled faintly, and released the large leather-bound volume clasped in his hand, and let it drift back to its correct place on the shelves. A soft susurration emanated from beneath the silver silken blanket spread across his lap, and the black head of Tom made its way out into the open. Haerviu smiled softly at it, ~Hello Tom.~, and watched in mild curiosity as the melanistic adder nodded faintly at him, before slithering off into the maze of shelves._

_Haerviu sighed, and rose to his feet, the blanket wrapping itself around his shoulders as he stood. He glared down at his bare feet, and imagined his new pair of leather boots onto them. A pleased smile flickered at the corner of his lips, and he followed Tom out into the maze… slowly winding his way closer to the faint sound of voices. Finally, the door of his cupboard stood before him, and he stepped through, out into the remembered Muggle library. Tom waited for him just outside, and slithered back into the inner chamber as Haerviu opened the door. Haerviu sighed, and followed the path Severus Snape had taken previously, finally opening his eyes,_ and staring into brilliant silver orbs. “Draco?” His voice was hoarse from lack of use.

“Haerviu.” Draco beamed at him, and helped him to sit up, “We were starting to get a bit worried, you’ve been asleep for ages!” Haerviu finally sank into a sitting position against the stack of pillows at the top of the bed, “Uncle Sev said you’d be fine though. They’re expecting you to wake up sometime in the next eight or so hours. Want me to go get anyone?”

“Not just yet.” Haerviu grimaced, “I need a minute to readjust.”

“Okay.” Draco rose to his feet, “I’ll sort you out a change of clothes, so you can shower then?”

“Please.”


	20. Making Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haerviu, Lucius and Severus begin to map out the plan for Haerviu Vasileios to emerge into the Wizarding World.

Petunia Dursley was a nice _normal_ woman, not like her freak of a sister or the unholy spawn she bore. Having dressed ready for the day, she made her way down the stairs, and banged on the cupboard door, “Freak! Time to get up.” She frowned at the lack of movement within, but continued on to the kitchen, where she flicked the kettle on, before returning to bang on the door once more. _‘Why is the brat not getting up?’_ An ugly frown spread across her plain face, and she ripped the door open, only to stare in shock at the complete emptiness of the cupboard. The blood rushed from her face, as she stared in horror. She darted to the back door, and rushed to check the dog kennel from when Marge gave Dudley a dog… which _sadly_ died shortly after he received custody. _‘No. No. No. Where is it?’_ She swallowed heavily, and headed back up the stairs to wake her husband, the shrieking of the kettle following her as she went. “Vernon. Vernon wake up.”

“Ugh, what is it Pet?”

“The freak’s not here.”

“What?” He erupted upright, “You’re sure?”

“I checked everywhere I can think of. It isn’t here.”

Vernon blanched, “Did it make it back last night? The big freak took it to get the supplies for that _school_ after all.” He swallowed heavily, “Maybe it’s staying in London until Term starts?”

Petunia gave a relieved smile, “That must be it.” She pulled her clothes straight once more, “Though it would be polite if they’d let us know first.”

 

* * *

 

Draco beamed at Haerviu as he supported his still unsteady friend on the way down to the breakfast table, “Mother said the House Elves were making Cinnamon Croissants for breakfast.”

“Oh?”

“Yep. They’re a celebration food _apparently_.” He grimaced, “Give yourself a massive sugar high and puke in the rose bushes _once_ and they ration the yummy food.” He shot Haerviu an amused grin, “Not that Father tends to remember that they’re banned of course.”

Haerviu snorted, “Is that so?”

“Yep. He’s more addicted to them than I am. So we tend to get them whenever we go somewhere without Mother.” Draco eased Haerviu’s arm from around his shoulder as they reached the door to the dining room, “So, we’re only supposed to have them for special occasions.”

Haerviu tilted his head to one side as they entered the room, the adults already present and with cups of tea before them, “So what’s the occasion?”

Lucius choked on his tea, as Narcissa gave Haerviu a gentle smile, “You woke up Child. That’s reason enough to celebrate.”

Haerviu blinked in shock, before smiling mutely at her, and sinking into the chair next to Draco, who beamed at him through a mouthful of croissant, causing an incredulous shout of “Manners!” from his mother, and a bout of startled laughter from Haerviu, who looked as shocked as the rest of them. Draco just beamed proudly, and poured Haerviu a glass of fresh pumpkin juice, before serving him up a trio of croissants of his own, “Eat up Lièvre, you’ve been asleep for _days_!”

Haerviu shot him an incredulous look, “Lièvre?”

“Well I can’t call you Harry, can I? We don’t want to attract attention, otherwise you’d look like Harry Potter still.”

His parents shot him stunned looks, while Haerviu gave a slow smile, “Good call. But why Lièvre?” Draco blushed, and muttered in response, but Haerviu just frowned, “Pardon?”

“It’s French for Hare.” At Haerviu’s stunned look, he elaborated. “You call me Drákon, I wanted to give you a nickname, and it was better than Hare, which was the only other idea I had.”

“Draco, they’re the same thing.”

“Maybe, but one’s in French! Which automatically means it’s superior.” Draco beamed at him, as his father started chuckling.

A low voice spoke from the doorway, “And what does that mean for those of us with no recent French blood then, Draco?”

Draco winced, “Hello Uncle Sev.” He gave him an angelic smile, “There are exceptions to every rule?”

Haerviu smirked, “That sounded like a question, don’t you agree Narcissa?”

Narcissa smiled, and spoke in an amused tone, “It certainly does Haerviu.”

Draco squawked, as Lucius attempted to fade into the background, “But Drákon is Greek!”

Severus smirked, taking a seat at the table next to a quietly amused Lucius, “And so is Haerviu…”

“Oh.” Draco frowned, “So what’s the story we’re going with? I don’t want to mess up and get Lièvre in trouble.”

Lucius set his cup of tea down and leant forwards, “Yes, what is your plan Haerviu?”

“I’m thinking I need to speak with the goblins again. I need to get a good look at the Vasileios family tree, and work on falsifying my identity.” He frowned, “Preferably by way of finding a relative who’ll be willing to claim legal guardianship of me so that Dumbledore can’t get me back.”

Narcissa frowned, “You don’t want to be here?”

“It’s not that Narcissa, it’s more that if a young wizarding child appears out of nowhere at the same time that Harry Potter disappears…”  
Severus inclined his head, “It would not be a good idea for the Malfoys to suddenly have a child in their care that no-one’s seen before.”

“Exactly.” Haerviu grimaced, “I’m thinking we look for a non-Magical relative, as that will explain why I haven’t been in the Wizarding World, as well as covering us for why I’m suddenly staying with you this summer. Then, Harry Potter disappears for good sometime after this school year, and Haerviu Vasileios can return to England to settle his cousin’s estate etc.” A smirk spread over his lips, “It gives Draco an excuse to be seen with Harry Potter, as he’ll be able to facilitate letters between the two cousins, as well as allow my identity as Haerviu to be a known fact, prior to my emergence as him.”

Severus cocked his head to one side, a thoughtful frown on his lips, “I’m assuming you intend to ‘transfer’ to Hogwarts?” At Haerviu’s nod, he continued, “We’ll need to get the goblins to facilitate some sort of correspondence course to one of the other Schools.”

Lucius gave a sinister smile, “I’m sure Karkaroff will be willing to assist. After all, he can confirm that you’re more than capable of assessing a student’s progress.”

Severus smirked at him, “And he owes us for the Trials.”

“Exactly.” Lucius smiled coldly, before continuing, “Durmstrang offered a correspondence course of sorts during the war with Grindelwald, where licensed assessors would monitor the progress of children who, due to the political leanings of their family, were unable to attend the school in person. There’s no reason why he can’t allow the Heir of a Line all but extinguished by the same madman to study the program.”

Haerviu smirked, “I’m assuming Harry Potter should expect a number of detentions this year?”

Severus mirrored his expression, “Oh, Mr Potter can _count_ on it.”

Haerviu turned to face Lucius fully, “Would you and Master Snape mind escorting me to Gringotts this afternoon, Lord Malfoy?”

Lucius inclined his head imperiously, “I’m sure I can arrange my schedule to allow for it, Heir Vasileios.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOOGLE TRANSLATE:
> 
> Lièvre - Hare (French)


	21. Scion of the House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last living member of House Vasileios, outside of Haerviu himself, enters the Game

Hannibal stepped into the study, sinking down into the chair set behind his mahogany partners’ desk, examining the vellum envelope he’d found amongst his post upon arriving home that evening. He set his wineglass down upon the coaster atop the desk, and turned the envelope over in his hands, taking an experimental whiff. _‘Metal and ink. Iron, but not blood.’_ An intrigued expression played across his face as he turned it over and registered the Gringotts’ crest. _‘Curious.’_ He flipped it back over to examine the address:

_Count Hannibal Kazimieras Lecter VIII_

_Head of the House of Lecter_

_Scion of the House of Vasileios_

Frowning slightly, he slit the envelope open and began reading the letter, an intrigued expression spreading across his face as he did so.

_Count Lecter, I write this upon the behalf of the grandson of your mother’s sister Euphemia. Young Heir-Lord Hadrian Jamison Potter-Black has recently come to our attention as someone to whom the expected duties of a Magical Guardian have been grossly misrepresented. He was brought into our London branch by the Hogwarts Gamekeeper instead of the teacher legally required to guide all Muggle-raised pupils, regardless of their level of fame in the Wizarding World. Regardless, he was polite in a manner uncommon to the Wizarding People, and upon realising his key was in the possession of the aforementioned Gamekeeper, one Rubeus Hagrid, he requested to speak with an Accounts Manager. Lord Malfoy was forced to intervene when Mr Hagrid attempted to force Heir-Lord Potter to leave without doing so. The tests were carried out, and it appears that Hogwarts Headmaster Dumbledore has been meddling most heavily in the life of your young cousin. As a result of the Headmaster’s actions, the Heir-Lord has expressed an interest in disappearing, though he cannot do so at present for fear of the actions of the aforementioned. Would you be amenable to being present at our Baltimore Branch at 3pm this Sunday for transportation to London in order to discuss facilitating the disappearance of the Heir-Lord?_

_Grimclaw of Clan Darkblade_

_Head Accounts Goblin_

_Houses Potter, Black, Vasileios, Naga, Gryffindor, Pendragon, Slytherin, Gaunt and Emrys_

 

 

Hannibal set the letter aside, an amused smile on his lips, _‘Now, what did the boy do to earn the respect of the Goblins? Interesting. And a goblin with that many vaults under his name… how many of them are tied to Hadrian?’_ His expression still decidedly amused, Hannibal slid open a drawer of his desk in search of the vellum sheets he had had inscribed with the Lecter Family Crest, and began to draft a reply.

_Master Goblin Grimclaw_

_I must confess myself intrigued as to how my cousin has drawn your attention, however if Dumbledore’s reputation amongst the Families of Europe holds any truth, then I would be more than willing to assist a member of my Family in escaping his clutches. I will be present at the Baltimore Gringotts Branch at the appointed time, though as a Squib, I would request that the Floo System not be the method of travel due to its unpredictable nature in regard to those of my Nature._

_Sincerely_

_Count Hannibal Kazimieras Lecter VIII_

_Head of House Lecter_

_Scion of House Vasileios_

 

An intrigued expression still on his face, Hannibal sealed the letter, and dipped his sealing ring into the puddle of hot wax, before rising from his seat and heading for the Owlery connected to the main house by a covered walkway. He grimaced at the faint smell of owl faeces in the air, before letting out a piercing whistle. He smiled faintly at the faint sound of swooping as a Bubo scandiacus emerged from the dark overhead. She perched on the narrow bar directly in front of him, and hooted lightly as he ran his hand over her pale head, “Hello Aušra. Would you mind taking a letter to Gringotts for me, Mažasis?” At the peck he received in response, he smiled lightly and handed her the letter, “Take it to the International Sorting Desk then.” She gave another low hoot, before taking off, swiftly vanishing into the darkness of the evening. _‘Interesting.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering what a Bubo scandiacus, and don't feel like Googling it... it turns out Snowy Owls are native to Lithuania... and I couldn't resist. It certainly adds to Hannibal's air of civility though. While Harry Potter can't afford to have such a distinctive bird... Hannibal couldn't resist the irony of the symbolism.
> 
> According to Google Translate... Mažasis is Lithuanian for Little One.
> 
> Aušra is apparently a Lithuanian name meaning Dawn


	22. Kazimieras

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haerviu learns of the existence of his cousin...

Lucius gave Haerviu an assessing look, weighing up his appearance, as he managed to carefully eat a single croissant, while the other two made their way onto Draco’s plate when Draco turned to speak to Severus. _‘Definitely malnourished.’_ He gave a mental groan at the sight of Narcissa’s concerned look, _‘She’s not going to let that go easily, and Severus is already sneaking Nutrient Potions into his drinks…’_ He sighed, and rose from the table as Haerviu set his knife and fork to one side, signalling the completion of his meal, motioning for Haerviu to follow him, Severus at his heels.

 

* * *

 

Lucius entered his study, motioning his companions to take their choice of seats, and retrieved a missive from the desk, handing to Haerviu, “I’m afraid I had to open it to check if it was imminently important, since you were still unconscious, but it’s addressed to you.”

“What do Gringotts want?” Haerviu hummed, examining the address:

_Heir-Lord Haerviu Leander Vasileios_

_Head of House Vasileios_

“Interesting.” Haerviu smiled faintly, and slid the letter out of the envelope, ignoring the other two occupants of the room.

 

_Heir-Lord Vasileios, my apologies for leaving off your other Titles, for I know how you wizards like to use as many as you can, whenever you can. I though it best to minimise the knowledge of anyone who happened to intercept your mail. As such, this letter has been enchanted so only you or Lord Malfoy are able to perceive the contents. I suspect, given the results of your Heritage Test, that you will seek to escape the influence of your Wizengamot Appointed Guardian/s. Lord Malfoy has written to inform me that you wish to use the Vasileios name as your Main House. Given these two pieces of information, I ventured to reach out to your distant cousin through said House, the Count Hannibal Kazimieras Lecter VIII, he has agreed to meet with you this Sunday at 3pm, in order to discuss how you might extricate yourself from the influence of the Hogwarts Headmaster. Furthermore, we have completed the appraisal of the transactions carried out by the vaults of House Potter since the deaths of your parents. If you wish to discuss them, as well as carry out the necessary tests for your remaining Houses, then you are welcome to come to my Office earlier than 3pm. Anytime after 10am that morning will be suitable. Lunch can be provided. If you have not yet attained access to your Metamorphagi talents, then I suggest you find an alternate means of disguising yourself upon entry._

_May the Blood of your enemies paint your Blades_

_Grimclaw of Clan Darkblade_

_Head Accounts Goblin_

_Houses Potter, Black, Vasileios, Naga, Gryffindor, Pendragon, Slytherin, Gaunt and Emrys_.

 

 

“ _Very_ interesting.”

Lucius smiled slightly, “Yes, I thought you might find it such.”

Haerviu gave him an amused gaze, “I presume we’ll be leaving shortly then?”

“Might be for the best, however, I’d like to know what you gleaned from that letter.”

Haerviu ignored Severus’ amused smirk, instead raising one eyebrow and speaking in a cold tone, “You starting my lessons on Politics already, Lord Malfoy?” He smirked, “Given that Grimclaw believes my cousin capable of extricating me from Dumbledore’s influence, he’s either very powerful, or very unknown. If the former, Grimclaw wouldn’t suggest him, as a new Family member to a powerful House would gain a lot of attention… something we can ill afford if we’re removing me from Dumbledore’s power. Which means he must be relatively unknown. That makes it unlikely that his Title is a Magical one, as even if he isn’t well-known here in Britain, as a Count, he would be in his homeland. That makes him either a Half-Blood, or a member of a Squib Line, which given that his names are uncommon, makes logical sense. Hannibal is a Latinized form of a Phoenician name and it’s a Family name, meaning he’s likely from Old Blood, which ups the chance of him being a descendant of a Pureblood House. Kazimieras is the Lithuanian form of Casimir, and although both Italy and Lithuania use Count in their Peerage system, it is more likely that he is Lithuanian, as while Latin is a widespread language, it is rare to see a name such as Kazimieras outside of Northern or Eastern Europe, and even there, Kazimir is the more common spelling.” He frowned, “By suggesting I come earlier, and by several hours, he implies that there are either serious, or numerous, issues to discuss in relation to my Account. The fact that lunch can be provided, when the Goblins are known for trying to get Wizards to leave them alone, suggests that he feels Gringotts is at least partially to blame for whatever issue it is that he’s found. Finally, by giving me the traditional farewell, and advising me to keep my identity hidden, he is implying that I have earned some level of respect, and that he is on my side in avoiding Dumbledore.”

Severus arched a brow and stared at him in surprise, “Well done.”

Lucius smirked, “The late Simonetta Lecter, the mother of the current Count, was the youngest sister of your grandmother Euphemia. There was apparently a bit of an uproar when she insisted on marrying the Muggleborn Kazimieras Lecter, younger son of the then Count. She and her husband were killed by Grindelwald’s forces, leaving their daughter, and a Squib son behind. The daughter was taken in by the Lady Regent Vasileios and nothing more is known of her. The son was placed in the care of Count Robertus Lecter.”

Haerviu frowned, “How do you know that?”

Severus smirked at Lucius’ faint embarrassed flush, “I’m assuming Narcissa knew somebody?”

“Lady Greengrass attended Beauxbatons, and was willing to provide Narcissa with all the information she asked for, after hearing how we were looking at reaching out to our Ancestral Allies.” He smiled faintly, “I believe Narcissa led her to think we were looking at marriage prospects for Draco.” He paled slightly at the dark look that spread over Haerviu’s face, before continuing, “Of course, we have no intention of doing such.”

Severus smirked, “Oh?”

Lucius glared at his friend, “It’s well-known on the Continent, in certain circles at least, that the most Magically powerful children come from parents who love each other. Allowing Draco to select his own Match would therefore be more profitable to the House of Malfoy.”


	23. A Feud Resolved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haerviu learns what his estate has been doing during his absence. He's not impressed.

Hannibal stepped out of the door of his home, and approached his Bentley, his phone ringing just as he opened the door. He frowned slightly at the gall of ringing him on his work phone on a Sunday, but answered anyway, sliding into the car as he did so. _‘I hope this isn’t Franklyn.’_ “Yes?”

_“Hello, is this Doctor Lecter?”_

“It is. How may I help you…?”

_“Agent Jack Crawford, I’m with the FBI. I was hoping you’d be willing to assess one of our agents and let me know if he’s suitable for field work.”_

“I was under the impression Doctor Bloom held that responsibility. Has something happened to her?”

_“What? No. Alana’s fine. But she and Will are friends of a sort, and she didn’t think it was a good idea for her to be involved.”_

“I see.” Hannibal frowned slightly, “May I ask who I’ll be assessing?”

_“Will Graham, he’s one of our top Profilers, but he hasn’t been on active duty in a while.”_

“And there is a particular reason to bring him in now?”

_“I needed his input on a case. He’s been okay thus far, but he’s starting to struggle. Alana gave me your name.”_

“I see. Unfortunately I have already made a commitment for today, but I can make time to meet Mister Graham Tuesday. If that suits?”

_“Uh, yes. That suits. Come to Quantico, and I’ll make sure you get a chance to speak with Will. Just let me know what time suits.”_

“Perhaps shortly after lunch?”

_“Sure. See you then.”_

“Very well.” Hannibal ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket, backing his car out of the driveway and heading to his appointment.

 

* * *

 

“You _sure_ I can’t come?”

Haerviu smiled faintly, “Grimclaw invited me and your father. Taking Master Snape is already pushing it, and besides, we’ll be reading through dusty parchment all day. Do you really want to be there for _that_?” Draco pouted but stepped out the way of the floo, Severus giving Narcissa an amused smile as Lucius promptly vanished.

 

* * *

 

“Ah, Lord Malfoy and Master Snape.” Grimclaw gave a fang-filled smile as the three walked into his office, closing the door behind himself, “Which I suppose means the boy is Heir-Lord Potter-Black?”

Haerviu smirked, “I am.” He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing his body to shift back the form they now associated with Harry Potter, blinking for a few moments before he fished the glasses he’d talked Lucius into transfiguring out of his pocket.

“Well done.” Grimclaw motioned for them to take their seats, “I was expecting you to take longer to gain adequate control over that Talent.”

“Well, I had no small reason to acquire it.” Hadrian drawled, “Shall we get to it?”

Grimclaw grimaced, “Very well. Firstly, let me say that the previous Accounts Goblin for House Potter has been _relieved of duty._ ”

Severus smirked, “In a most final fashion I presume.”

“Exactly.” Grimclaw unfurled a roll of parchment, and plucked a quill out of the inkwell in front of him, “Now. For the record, have you ever met Molly Weasley?”

“No.”

Grimclaw made a mark on his scroll, “Ronald Weasley?”

“No.”

“Ginevra Weasley?”

“No.”

“Hermione Granger?”

Hadrian paused, “There was a girl with an odd name in my Year Two class. It might have been Hermione. I remember Dudley said she was as much a freak as me. She left midway through the year after she ‘tripped’, and her books landed in a pile of dog poo. Other than that, I don’t think so.”

“Remus Lupin?”

“No.”

Severus frowned, “The wolf? He’s on your list?”

Grimclaw inclined his head, “He is. We’re unsure if his presence is for the same reason as the others though.”

“Arabella Figg?”

“She’s one of the Dursley’s neighbours. They sometimes left me with her when they left for more than a day or so and couldn’t leave me in the cupboard.”

The other three in the room frowned, and Lucius choked, “Cupboard?”

“It’s where they kept me when I wasn’t doing chores or being granted the privilege of school.”

Grimclaw growled, “I see.” He took a breath, “Dedalus Diggle?”

“Not that I know of. An old man in wizard robes bowed to me in a shop once, but that’s the only contact I can think of with someone obviously Wizarding before my letter.”

“Albus Dumbledore?”

“Not since he slipped a letter into my blankets and left me on the Dursley’s doorstep.”

Severus glared, “ _Doorstep?_ ”

Hadrian gave him a cold-eyed look, “Yes. I remember it being cold, and wet after a while. I dropped off, freezing, only for Aunt Petunia to wake me up shrieking. That’s the last time I saw him. Other than that, I only ever saw him when he visited my parents.”

Grimclaw growled, “Then the payments authorised on your behalf to these people are fraudulent.”

Hadrian grimaced, “May I ask what the payments were for?”

“Molly Weasley supposedly took care of you during school breaks to help you assimilate to a Wizarding Household. Dedalus Diggle is registered as your Tutor for pre-Hogwarts Wizarding studies. Remus Lupin, Ronald and Ginevra Weasley and Hermione Granger are receiving the monthly stipend for Friends of House Potter. Arabella Figg is being compensated for teaching you the Old Ways, and Hedgewitchery. Dumbledore has also authorised the Dursley’s to receive the traditional payment for caring for the Heir to an Ancient House, though House Potter is no such thing.”

Hadrian scowled, “And what is Dumbledore receiving?”

“Payment for ensuring the security of your Estate. There is also an annual payment to the Phoenix Society.”

Severus mirrored Hadrian’s expression, “I remember for a fact that both Fleamont and James Potter refused Dumbledore when he asked for support for the Order during the last war. I don’t see him changing his mind, given that James and Lily went into isolation shortly thereafter and Fleamont and Euphemia died.”

Grimclaw frowned, “I see.”

“Though it is possible that Lupin at least was granted the stipend by the request of James Potter. He and Lupin were close friends.”

Hadrian frowned, “Mark that one aside. It may be beneficial to maintain it for longer than the others.”

Grimclaw nodded, “Were you aware of any Marriage Contracts made in your name?”

Severus and Lucius winced, bracing themselves for Hadrian’s response, “ _No_. I was _not._ ” He shot Grimclaw a black look, “Are they valid?”

“Not if you refute them. You’re legally a Minor, but you are Head of House Potter, which means you can access the information of the Lord, but you can’t be forced to follow contracts dependent on your adulthood yet.” Lucius gave him a cold smile, which Hadrian matched, turning back to face Grimclaw.

Grimclaw sneered, “The one with House Weasley requires you to grant Dumbledore the right to manage your Estate.”

“How do I reject it?”

“Just say the Head of the House of Potter refuses the contract.” Lucius smiled at him.

Hadrian frowned, “This won’t have any results Dumbledore would be aware of?”

Grimclaw shook his head, “They won’t come into effect unless someone tries to implement it. Though, given that it’s tied to House Potter, it would affect your Heir if you were to die before rejecting it. If it’s legal and you reject it, you would either have to pay a penalty, or pass it down the line. I will of course advise you if that is a factor.”

Hadrian pinched the bridge of his nose, “The Head of the House of Potter rejects the Marriage Contract with the House of Weasley. So mote it be.”

Grimclaw cleared his throat, “Walburga Black verified a Contract between the House of Goyle and the Heir Black.”

Severus choked, “No wonder your Godfather ran for it.”

Hadrian raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

Lucius smirked, “House Goyle is rather well-known for their lack of intellectual members.”

Severus snorted, “He means they are rather often compared to Trolls.”

Hadrian snorted, “I see. The Acting Head of the House of Black refuses the Contract.”

“House Peverell has a Contract with House Black.”

“Is that valid?” Severus frowned.

Grimclaw shrugged, “Yes and no. Heir-Lord Hadrian is the Heir-Lord for House Black, but House Peverell has not yet been claimed, so it could theoretically tie him to a different Heir. I suggest you pass it down.”  
Hadrian groaned, “The Acting Head of the House of Black refutes the Contract with the proviso that it may be reassessed in the future, and that it will still be valid for other parties of his House.” He grimaced, “That all?”

“All the potentially valid Marriage Contracts. There remain a number more of the other forms.”

“Joy.”

Grimclaw smiled, baring his fangs at Hadrian, who just mirrored the expression, “Houses Malfor and Vasileios have a Contract of Mutual Aid.”

Hadrian cocked his head, “Who’s the current Head of House Malfor?”

Lucius grimaced, “There isn’t one. The line Squibbed out. House Malfoy is the Main Cadet Branch of the Line.”

Grimclaw inclined his head, “In which case, you can redirect it to the Malfoys or let it lie latent until an Heir to House Malfor emerges.”

Hadrian frowned, “I’ll redirect it to the Malfoys. There’s no way of knowing if House Malfor still exists in the Male line.”

“Very well. House Potter has a Feud with House Prince.”

Hadrian grimaced, glancing at Severus, “Any chance that can be negated?”

Severus frowned, “Why? I’m technically disowned.”

Grimclaw gave him a slow stare, “No, you’re not. Your mother was, but your Grandfather allowed for her son to inherit provided he followed the Old Ways.” He turned to face Hadrian, “Simply state that the Head of House Potter wishes to extend the Hand of Friendship to the Lord Apparent of the House of Prince.”

Hadrian turned to face Severus, who stared at him in curious shock, “The Head of the House of Potter wishes to extend the Hand of Friendship to the Lord Apparent of the House of Prince in gratitude to his aid in releasing him from his binds.”

Severus gaped, “The Head of the House of Prince accepts the Hand of Friendship of the Heir-Lord of the House of Potter and acknowledges the Binds of Alliance between our two Houses.” A sphere of blackish-green and dark purple magic swirled around them momentarily, confirming their words.

 

Grimclaw frowned, “Right. The Burrow currently occupied by Arthur Weasley and his dependants is registered in the Paperwork as being an independent testing lab for Potter Potions. Legally it isn’t qualified as a dwelling, and they aren’t paying rent. Or if they are, it isn’t reaching your coffers.”

Hadrian frowned, “Any chance you elected to audit my account upon learning I didn’t have a key? And poor naïve Harry Potter just told you to do what needed to be done?”

Grimclaw gave him a savage smile, “Why yes, I think it is _very_ possible. I do believe the Weasley Clan will be getting their eviction notice shortly.”

Hadrian frowned, “Why are they a Clan, not a House?”

Lucius grimaced, “They’re from one of the Pict Clans originally. Technically speaking, they can be termed Family, but they were legally reverted back to Clan status when they lost their Lordship.”

Grimclaw turned to face Severus, “Were you aware that you’re being paid a stipend as a registered Potions Master for Potter Potions?”

Severus froze, “No. I was not.”

“That explains why there aren’t any submissions under your name to the company, and why you haven’t been paying the royalties due for producing potions whilst under Contract.”

Hadrian grimaced, “Any chance we can negate the owed portions? Reclaim the unpaid stipend, remove the royalties due, and provide Master Snape with the remainder, with the option to cancel the Contract without penalty if he wishes?”

Severus stared at him in shock, as Grimclaw smirked, “Very well. I’m sure the Phoenix Society can stand to lose the donations Master Snape has kindly been making to them over the years.” He paused, turning to face Severus, “You may wish to check your accounts once you claim the Lordship. I’m not sure who’s been in charge, but someone has been using the Prince Estate.”

Severus ground his teeth, “I see.”

Hadrian frowned, “Pause dealing with the rest until after I’ve arranged for my disappearance. Dumbledore thinks I’m still under compulsions, so Harry Potter is going to have to be friends with Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger.”

Grimclaw inclined his head, “Very well. I’ll send for lunch before we move on. Your cousin is due to arrive shortly anyway.”


	24. Dark Meets Darkling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Haerviu finally meet... and Hannibal explains the truth of his nature.

Hannibal followed Griphook as he was led to the office where his supposed cousin awaited him. _‘Why have I not been informed of his existence before? What has Dumbledore done with him?’_ Hannibal paused, blanking his face, as the goblin swung the door open. He met the curious expression of the Lord Malfoy and the sneer of his dark-haired companion, before smiling slightly at the assessing look and cold stare on the face of the malnourished child before him.

The child blinked, and a childlike expression of curiosity spread across his face, “Y-you’re my cousin?” He stared at Hannibal with wide eyes.”

 _‘Oh, he’s an interesting little monster.’_ Hannibal inclined his head, an amused expression briefly flickering through his eyes, “I am, you may call be Hannibal if you wish, and you?”

The boy blinked, shooting a worried look at the adults, “H-harry.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Harry.” Hannibal took a step forward as the door shut behind him, ignoring the protective expressions on the faces of the two adults, waiting a moment to ensure the door wouldn’t reopen, before letting a predatory smirk overtake his face, “Now, would you mind dropping the mask, Cousin?”

The boy froze, his face blanking for a moment, before a matching smirk spread across his face, his voice free of its stutter as he replied, “What gave me away?”

Hannibal smiled coldly, taking a seat without waiting for permission, “Nothing someone without our nature would notice… but you need to work on your masks.” He gave the boy an amused look, “Your eyes were too cold when I entered. A _normal_ child in your circumstances would look worried, or at the very least curious. You just looked blank.” Hannibal tilted his head to one side, “It only lasted a moment, but like I said, a _normal_ child wouldn’t have that moment.”

Harry smiled coldly at him, “Any chance my peculiarities are genetic then? I noticed you called it _our_ nature, not _mine._ ”

Hannibal gave an elegant shrug, still ignoring the other three people in the room, “Perhaps. House Vasileios does have Fae ancestry, and no-one has ever accused the Fae of humanity.”

Lord Malfoy paled, “You’re Fae?”

Hannibal shook his head slowly, “No Lord Malfoy. I’m a Squib.” A smirk overtook his face at the disgusted look on the blonde’s face, “Officially, at least. Technically speaking I’m closer to the Elven Courts than the Human World in terms of my nature. I just didn’t inherit any of the more useful gifts.”

The other man spoke then, “Changeling or Drow?”

“Neither.” A smirk overtook Hannibal’s face, “I was born Magical, but it turns out there’s a Bloodline Curse on House Lecter. We used to go by Laktar before the Crusades, but after the Count at the time defeated our invaders, _well_ , it turns out that the lover of one of the knights lost in the battle was of the Lefay Line.” Hannibal grimaced, “My namesake’s younger brother was born Magical. He died of a withering disease shortly thereafter. There were no further Magical members of the House after that point, so House Laktar faded from the annals of history.” He gave an elegant shrug, “My father was the first of the Line to regain the gift of Magic, but in naming me for my ancestor on whom the initial curse was laid, the last remnants of it claimed me. I was lucky to survive my first year.”

Harry frowned, “Is it still active?”

“No. I had Gringotts look into it after I acquire the Head of Houseship.” A cold smile spread across his lips, “Even if a ninth member of my Line were to gain the name of Hannibal, the curse would not reactivate. If I had retained my Magical Heritage, then I’d likely be tied to the Unseelie Court.”

The dark-haired man spoke then, “Then why is it you have a Magical Signature coiled around your Core? A rather Dark one at that.”

Lord Malfoy grimaced at that, “How Dark?”

Harry smirked, “Really Lucius, you have a Dark Core yourself.”

Lord Malfoy glared at him, “Yes, but I’m Magical. A Squib wouldn’t have a Dark Core, and Severus wouldn’t mention someone’s Core unless it were worrying.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, turning to face the sneering dark-haired man, “Master Snape, I presume?” At the man’s nod, he continued, “What exactly is it about my Core that bothers you?”

“It’s too Dark. If yesterday weren’t a full moon, I would have said that you were a Were.”

Harry smiled cruelly, “Wendigo?”

Hannibal ignored the twin flinches from the adults, and the grinning goblin at the desk, “Now what gave you that impression mažas pusbrolis?”

“Maybe the fact that you already said you aren’t Fae; Severus confirmed you’re not a Were; if you were a Vampire, Grimclaw would have arranged for us to meet later in the day; you show none of the signs of a Changeling; and if you were anything else, you wouldn’t have been born to a Wizarding Family, as their inherent Magics would reject them.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, “You’re very well-read if you can say that with certainty. It’s common knowledge that Wendigos retain no sanity once the shift is complete.”

“Common knowledge is only rarely accurate.” Harry smirked at him, “And I have an _uncommon_ advantage in terms of acquiring knowledge.”

“I see.” He glanced at the two pale men, “Relax. Even if I _had_ lost my sanity, a Wendigo cannot hunt its Kin, and my cousin appears to be in need of family.” He grimaced faintly, “My Beast has already claimed him as a Fawn. He is in no danger from me.”

Snape sneered, “And his humanity?”

The goblin interjected then, “Being a Wendigo is not contagious. It’s a condition that only affects those humans with insufficient Magic for your People to class them as Wizarding, and too much to be termed Muggles. Even if the Heir-Lord were to share Count Lecter’s diet, he would not transform.”

 

Hannibal smirked coldly, “So, why exactly do you need my aid? I’m assuming you likely have a plan prepared to free Harry?”

Lord Malfoy opened his mouth to respond, but Harry got there first, a grimace on his face, “Firstly, at least call me Hadrian when I wear this face.” Hannibal arched an eyebrow in surprise at the wording, but Hadrian continued, “We were intending that I carry out the first year at Hogwarts, only to disappear sometime in the break…” He sneered, “Preferably in a way that implicates my _dear_ Muggle relatives in my disappearance or death.”

Hannibal frowned, “That would only trigger a manhunt.”

Hadrian smiled coldly, “Which is why Harry Potter will spend the year in contact with his distant cousin, who is currently staying with the House of Malfoy while Gringotts makes contact with his nearest relation with sufficient ties to the Wizarding World.”

Hannibal let his lips twist in an amused smile, “You’re hoping I’ll take Guardianship?”

“That would be my plan, yes.”

“And now, knowing what I am?”

Hadrian cocked his head to one side, “Why would I change my mind? Of the Houses I have claim to, only House Vasileios has recent enough ties to allow me to slip into position without raising too many eyebrows, but little enough connection to Britain to prevent Dumbledore from having too much information on the Family.” A smirk pulled at his lips, “And given Dumbledore’s inaction during Grindelwald’s War, I doubt there’ll be many inclined to support him if he tries to insist I have to be Harry Potter.”

“And how will you sort the issue of your appearance? If you attend Hogwarts, then he will have an accurate idea of your appearance, and any rituals which would permanently change your face, you are either too old or too young to carry out.”

Hadrian smirked, “Not a problem.” He closed his brilliant green eyes, and his companions watched as his messy black hair lengthened to his shoulders, gaining a reddish tint, and relaxing into smooth waves. His eyes shifted into a more almond shape, and his unhealthily pale skin darkened to the rich gold Hannibal knew was due to the Vasileios heritage they shared, his cheekbones shifting to a higher position in his face, and a jagged scar curling across his face, obscuring the distinctive lightning bolt. Hadrian blinked open his eyes, revealing the emerald green orbs now had a blue ring about the pupil, spiderwebbing out into the iris.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, “Metamorphagus?”

Hadrian inclined his head, “I was Blood Adopted by Sirius Black.” He smirked, “I was fortunate enough to gain the Black Family Gift.”

“I see. How much of that is your natural appearance?”

“Everything but the tan. I spent too many of my formative years in cupboard to gain one of my own. The scar is usually located on my chest, but as I couldn’t shift the one on my forehead, I elected to obscure it.”

Hannibal looked his cousin over, assessingly. _‘He may not look much like me or Father’s Family, but he does have the eyes and cheekbones common to House Vasileios. If he has another House he can blame the green eyes on…’_ “Your eyes?”

Hadrian grimaced, “House Naga apparently by way of my supposedly Muggleborn mother. Though the blue part is from something else.”

“Hmm.” Hannibal frowned slightly, “House Naga is Indian, correct?”

Lord Malfoy frowned, “It is.”

“How were you planning to tie yourself to the Family?”

Hadrian cocked his head, “Your mother’s brother died childless, but he was married to a Muggleborn, who disappeared after her husband’s death. I was planning on becoming his grandson.”

Hannibal grimaced slightly, “That wouldn’t work. Your eyes are rather distinctive, and the only reason she’s thought to have disappeared, is because she was a _he_ , and unable to use the Male-Bearing potions. He committed suicide shortly before my parents died.”

“Oh.” Hadrian frowned.

“However.” Hannibal grimaced slightly, “House Laktar were Arabic originally. I remember from when I looked into the Family Tree, that House Naga showed up a time or two, and while my sister died not long after our parents, our aunt did a good job of hiding the two of them after she took Mischa in. I had to go through the Goblins to learn what happened to them.” He turned to Grimclaw, “Any chance we can claim she died in childbirth? If Hadrian was in an orphanage before he received notification of his place in the Magical World, it would allow us to explain his scars.”

Grimclaw nodded, as Hadrian glared at him, “What are you saying?”

“It doesn’t take a psychiatrist to see the signs of abuse when they’re plain to see on your skin, Cousin.”

“Oh.” Hadrian frowned.

Hannibal turned back to Lord Malfoy, “What’s the plan in regard to his education?”

Lord Malfoy frowned, “Durmstrang had a form of Correspondence Education set up during Grindelwald’s War. We were planning on arranging for Karkaroff to register his new name as a student, claiming that he’s learning via Correspondence while he adjusts to his place in his Family. That way, when Harry Potter ‘dies’, his cousin can transfer to Hogwarts to learn what he can about him, and arrange for settling his affairs.

Hannibal inclined his head, “Sounds like an acceptable plan. You sure Karkaroff will support you?”

Snape gave a menacingly smirk, “Oh, _most_ certain. He does owe Lucius and I a great debt after all.”

“I see.” Hannibal turned back to Hadrian, “Claim yourself as Mischa’s son, and you’ll also have the security of not technically being a citizen of Britain, as House Vasileios is based in Greece, and House Lecter in Lithuania, whilst I personally live in America.”

A smirk pulled at Hadrian’s lips, “Dumbledore won’t be pleased that he has no access to the Boy Who Lived’s fortune.” He cocked his head to one side, “What about Magical Identifications?”

Grimclaw gave a cruel smile, “We can put a temporary block on your Bloodline, ensuring that only Lily and James Potter register. After Harry Potter ‘dies’ we can inverse it to allow Sirius Black to appear as your father, while blocking Lily and James.” He glanced at Hannibal, “If Count Lecter is willing, we can perform a Tangential Blood Adoption, to ensure that his sister registers as your mother.”

Hadrian frowned, “Any way we can do it so that I can switch it at will? I’ll be appearing as his nephew before Harry Potter’s ‘death’. I can’t do that if I still register as the Potter Scion.”

Snape grimaced, “I might have a solution for that.” The others turned to stare at him. “The Dark Lord had me work on a means to purge impure blood from the Bloodlines. It doesn’t work like that, but it does allow you to separate out your Bloodlines into the preferred ones if you have more than two parents.”

Lucius stared at his friend in shock, as Hannibal interrupted, “Potion, ritual, or spell?”

“Ritual. It would link the mask Bloodline to an item or tattoo.”

Hadrian cocked his head to one side, “My glasses are two easy to remove, and I’m too young to get away with a tattoo… also I don’t want to have an identifying feature I can’t hide.”

Hannibal smirked, “Any chance Lily Potter was Catholic?”

Snape raised an eyebrow, “How do you know that?”

“I didn’t. But the Patron Saint of Babies is often depicted with lilies. It wouldn’t seem unusual if she left her son a medal of Saint Philomena, would it?”

Hadrian shook his head, “The Dursley’s wouldn’t let me have anything that would mark me as having family.”

Lord Malfoy frowned, “But Dumbledore knows you spoke with the Goblins. You could claim you found it in your vault with a letter from your mother, but that you left the letter in the vault to keep it safe.”

Hannibal smirked, “And I happen to have a medal of the Saint which used to belong to my sister. It should still hold enough of her Magical Signature to make the Adoption easier on the Goblins, and I think she’d approve of the use we’ll be putting it to.”

Hadrian frowned at him, “You sure?”

Hannibal inclined his head, “Any idea what name you’ll be using for this form?”

Hadrian smirked, “I was thinking Haerviu Leander Vasileios.”

Hannibal blinked, “You wouldn’t be using your new father’s name at all?”

Severus snorted, “Sirius Black was a notorious womaniser before he was incarcerated. If he claims that his mother only knew that he was British, but was never told his real name… then Haerviu could be her way of acknowledging him, while Leander is honouring her own Greek heritage.”

Hannibal frowned, “It’s not that unusual a name for House Lecter either. We do tend to pick a common name, and then follow it back to the oldest form we can, which would explain why she didn’t just name him Henry or something similar. She could be honouring both of her Families, as well as his father.”

 

Hadrian smirked, “Anything we can do now?”

Hannibal gave him a blank look, “I’d like to see your medical file if I can.” At his cousin’s panicked look, “I transferred to psychiatry from being a surgeon. If I’m to become your official guardian, I’d like to have some idea of any issues I’ll be fixing.” Hadrian grimaced, but motioned for Grimclaw to hand over the requisite paperwork. Hannibal gave the paper a dark look, “I see.” He turned to face Hadrian, “Any chance I can help you dispose of the responsible parties?” At his cousin’s shocked look, “You do realise that to be a Wendigo, I also have to be a killer, correct?” At the slow smirk spreading across Hadrian’s face, he continued, “And I have a bit of a reputation amongst the Non-Magical community. All you’d have to do would be ensure they arrive in America for some reason.” He paused, “In fact, if you can arrange to come over with them, then it’s entirely possible that your disappearance from the scene of the crime would cause the No-Maj’s to assume you as dead almost immediately, after all, the Chesapeake Ripper doesn’t exactly have a reputation for keeping people alive.”

Hadrian’s jaw dropped, “You’re the Chesapeake Ripper?” The three Magicals in the room shot them both confused looks, which only deepened as the boy burst out laughing, “Given my uncle seems to think you’re a saint since your last three victims were either gay or black… I think it would be _more_ than appropriate.” He paused, “I assume the Wizarding World take a while to notice crimes committed in the non-Magical one?” At Lord Malfoy’s nod, he smiled cruelly, “Then it’s possible Harry Potter could be gone longer than forty-eight hours before they realise he’s gone… which is useful since by my understanding tracking spells get wildly unreliable after that point, and if I leave everything except for the basic uniform, and Dudley’s hand-me-downs with either you or the Malfoys when I head to Hogwarts, then my belongings could be left at Number Four, aside from my wand, but wands can’t hold tracking spells anyway, and I might have a way to mask its appearance for when I return.” He turned to face Lord Malfoy, “Incidentally, if anyone asks, Harry Potter wields a Holly and Phoenix feather wand.”

Lord Malfoy raised an eyebrow, “And Haerviu Vasileios?”

“Given it’s dual-natured, I think I should claim the more ‘Light’ aspects, since Thestral Hair would cause Dumbles to freak out. So, Fir and Phoenix Feather.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Google Translate:
> 
> mažas pusbrolis = Little Cousin (Lithuanian)


	25. Properties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made. Inheritances are discussed.

“Given it’s dual-natured, I think I should claim the more ‘Light’ aspects, since Thestral Hair would cause Dumbles to freak out. So, Fir and Phoenix Feather.” Haerviu removed the mentioned wand from his wand sheath, twisting it around his fingers, before sheathing it again with a mental sigh, watching the shocked expressions on the faces of those who didn’t already know his wand’s nature, focusing on his newfound cousin most closely. _‘I wonder how accurate his description of a Wendigo’s claiming is. A race such as theirs, it makes sense they wouldn’t be able to harm their young, but has he really claimed me, or is he using it as an excuse because he finds me interesting?’_

An intrigued light lit Hannibal’s eyes, “And the other components?”

“Now, why would I share that information, Cousin?”

Hannibal smirked faintly, “Understandable. I’m presuming something snake related given your ties to House Naga, so snakewood, like Salazar Slytherin’s wand?”

Lord Malfoy snorted as Haerviu smirked, “Afraid not Cousin. Despite my knack for speaking to serpents, my wand seems to be more linked to my Peverell ancestry.” Haerviu turned to face Grimclaw, “Were we doing a test on my remaining inheritances?”

 

Grimclaw inclined his head and passed the same knife and bowl as on the previous visit across to him, “You remember what to do?”

A smirk flickered across Haerviu’s lips, “I do.” He picked up the silver blade, and slit his wrist once again, letting his blood drip into the basin. Severus leant across and tapped his wrist silently with his wand, watching as the wound healed without a mark. Grimclaw inclined his head in recognition of Haerviu’s lack of reaction to the pain, and poured the liquid across a fresh sheet of white parchment, they watched as the information began to transcribe itself, Haerviu absently sliding the top few sheets, holding the information he, Lucius and Grimclaw were already aware of, across to Severus and Hannibal, absently monitoring their shocked expressions as he and Lucius waited for the remainder of the information to form.

His attention snapped fully to Severus at the sound of his horrified voice, “August? He was never the subject of the Prophecy?” His horrified gaze flicked to Haerviu, “Lily didn’t need to die?”

Lucius grasped his friend’s shoulder, “I’m sorry Severus.”

Hannibal snorted, “How is it you managed to be the Heir to the Camelot Three?”

Severus snapped his gaze back to the parchment, “What?” He choked, “Oh Gods. How many Lines terminate in you?” He paused, “How many of these have you claimed?”

Haerviu smiled coldly, “Everything but Peverell, Lefay and Gris.” He gave a slight shrug, “Those three implied that I may be ready in the future, just not yet.” He snapped his gaze back to where he and Lucius were waiting, “Here we go.”

 

_**Vaults:** _

_ Naga Vaults  _

  * _Trust Vault_



  1. _40 000 Galleons_
  2. _2 000 Sickles_
  3. _Book – Myths and Magic of the Naga_



  * _Heir Vault_



  1. _40 000 Galleons_
  2. _Naga Family Grimoire_



  * _Family Vault (limited access)_



  1. _3 000 000 Galleons_



  * _Library Vault (limited access)_



  1. _400 000 Scrolls_
  2. _150 000 Papyri_
  3. _240 000 Slates_



  * _Lord’s Vault (no access until Lordship is claimed)_



  1. _Naga Family Tapestry_
  2. _100 000 Galleons_



  * _Artefact Vault_



  1. _Contents concealed_



_ Slytherin Vaults  _

  * _Family Vault (limited access)_



  1. _15 000 000 Galleons_



  * _Lord’s Vault (no access until Lordship is claimed_



  1. _Slytherin Family Grimoire_
  2. _Slytherin Family Tapestry_
  3. _Salazar’s Grimoire_



  * _Library Vault (limited access)_



  1. _90 000 Scrolls_
  2. _40 000 Books_
  3. _200 000 Letters_



  * _Artefact Vault (limited access)_



  1. _Salazar’s Sword_
  2. _Contents concealed_



_ Gaunt Vault  _

  * _Lord’s Vault (no access until Lordship is claimed)_



  1. _Gaunt Grimoire_
  2. _Gaunt Family Tapestry_



_ Vasileios Vault  _

  * _Trust Vault_



  1. _200 000 Galleons_



  * _Heir Vault_



  1. _80 000 Galleons_
  2. _Vasileios Crest pin_



  * _Family Vault (limited access)_



  1. _20 000 000 Galleons_



  * _Lord’s Vault (no access without Lordship)_



  1. _Vasileios Grimoire_
  2. _Vasileios Family Tapestry_
  3. _Booke of the Fae_
  4. _200 000 Galleons_



  * _Library Vault (limited access)_



  1. _30 000 Books_
  2. _40 000 Scrolls_



  * _Artefact Vault (limited access)_



  1. _Contents concealed_



_ Gryffindor Vault  _

  * _Family Vault (limited access)  
_



  1. _50 000 Galleons_



  * _Lord’s Vault (no access without Lordship)_



  1. _Godric’s Grimoire_
  2. _Gryffindor Grimoire_
  3. _Gryffindor Family Tapestry_



  * _Library Vault (limited access)_



  1. _10 000 books_



  * _Artefact Vault (limited access)_



  1. _Godric’s Wand_
  2. _Sword of Godric Gryffindor_



_ Emrys’ Vaults  _

  * _Main Vault_



  1. _Myrddin’s Staff_
  2. _Egg of Aithusa_
  3. _25 000 Galleons_
  4. _Dragonscale armour_



  * _Library Vault_



  1. _The Booke of Myrddin_
  2. _Booke of Dragons_
  3. _The Tale of a Prat and His Dragonlord; Being a Factual Account of the Life and Times of Emrys_
  4. _Dragonlords: Myths and Magic_
  5. _The Olde Ways_
  6. _100 misc. books_



_ Pendragon Vaults  _

  * _Trust Vault_



  1. _40 000 Galleons_



  * _Heir Vault_



  1. _40 000 Galleons_
  2. _Pendragon Grimoire_



  * _Family Vault_


  1. _10 000 000 Galleons_


  * _Lord’s Vault (no access without Lordship)_


  1. _A King and His Clotpole of a Manservant; the True Account of the Life of Arthur Pendragon_
  2. _Crown of Camelot_
  3. _Pendragon Family Tapestry_
  4. _Enchanted plate mail armour_


  * _Library Vault (limited access)_


  1. _How to Wrangle an Idiot Dragonlord_
  2. _75 misc. books_


  * _Artefact Vault (limited access)_


  1. _Contents concealed_



Severus raised an eyebrow, “Interesting books in the last two.”

 

Hannibal smirked, “Well, when you consider that certain Families have long believed that Court Sorcerer was as much Royal Consort as Sorcerer…”

Severus gave him an incredulous look, “Really?”

Haerviu snorted, “Explains why he never remarried after Guinevere ran off.”

Hannibal gave a slight smile, “It does, doesn’t it?” Haerviu frowned, skimming over the list of properties, reading ahead to where the one’s he didn’t recognise began, only to be interrupted by Severus’ groan, “The Blacks are descendants of Mordred? That explains so much.”

Lucius grimaced, “I didn’t even notice that last time. Narcissa will be thrilled.” Haerviu tuned them out, skimming down the list of properties.

**_Properties:_ **

  * _Naga_
    * _Naga Estate_
    * _Serpent’s Rest_
    * _Fort Naga_
    * _Isle of Wadjet_
  * _Slytherin_
    * _Slytherin Castle_
    * _Slytherin Manor_
    * _Palacio de Serpiente_
    * _Serpens Lodge_
  * _Gaunt_
    * _Gaunt Shack_
  * _Vasileios_
    * _Víla Vasileios_
    * _Vasileios Keep_
    * _Vasileios Estate_
  * _Gryffindor_
    * _Gryffindor Keep_
    * _Gryffindor Farm_
  * _Emrys_
    * _The Crystal Cave_
    * _Dragonlord Keep_
    * _Isle of the Lost_
    * _Lake of Avalon_
    * _Hunith’s Hut_
  * _Pendragon_
    * _Pendragon Keep_
    * _Tyntagael Castle_
    * _Camelot Castle and Town_



 

Hannibal blinked, “Well then. I somehow doubt you’ll have any issues trying to find somewhere to live when you gain your Maturity, Hadrian.”

Haerviu glanced at him, _‘He seems surprised, but not envious. Interesting.’_ He flicked a small smile at his cousin, “Call me Haerviu when I look like this, it’ll make it easier to remember when it matters.”

Hannibal inclined his head, “Very well.” He glanced at Grimclaw, “Businesses?”

The goblin sneered at him, but handed across another sheaf of papers, “Only Houses Vasileios, Potter, Black and Naga have any active business interests. The other Houses have been dormant too long. Their accounts were paused upon the deaths of their last Lords.” Haerviu accepted the bundle and spread them out, to start perusing.

**_Potter_ :**

  * _Potter Potions_
    * _75% Ownership_
  * _Daily Prophet_
    * _10% Ownership_
  * _Nimbus_
    * _13% Ownership_
  * _Ollivander’s_
    * _5% Ownership_
  * _Flourish & Blotts_
    * _9% Ownership_



**_Black:_ **

  * _Potter Potions_
    * _10% Ownership_
  * _The Crystal Ball_
    * _17% Ownership_
  * _Daily Prophet_
    * _19% Ownership_
  * _Nimbus_
    * _9% Ownership_
  * _Twilfoot and Tattings_
    * _15% Ownership_
  * _Ogden’s_
    * _5% Ownership_



**_Naga:_ **

  * _The Wizard’s Voice_
    * _5% Ownership_
  * _The Daily Prophet_
    * _3% Ownership_
  * _Le Cri de la Gargouille_
    * _13% Ownership_
  * _Wizards International_
    * _12% Ownership_
  * _Firebolt_
    * _12% Ownership_
  * _The Poison Quill_
    * _45% Ownership_
  * _The Internationale Healer’s Store_
    * _80% Ownership_



**_Vasileios_ ** _:_

  * _Le Cri de la Gargouille_
    * _16% Ownership_
  * _Kathimerinó Magikó Chartí_
    * _25% Ownership_
  * _Nimbus_
    * _10% Ownership_
  * _Potter Potions_
    * _15% Ownership_
  * _Prince Potionery_
    * _12% Ownership_
  * _Wizards International_
    * _7% Ownership_
  * _Witch Weekly_
    * _13% Ownership_
  * _Vasileios Apostolí_
    * _78% Ownership_



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any foreign words are due to them being names of businesses etc. If you need a translation, let me know and I'll write it out :)


	26. Preparations

Lord Malfoy raised an eyebrow, “Even if you’re only the Heir of House Black at the moment Haerviu, the investments from the other Houses will give you a large share of the Daily Prophet.” He smiled at the boy. “Should make it easier to sell the narrative of poor abused Harry Potter after he disappears.”

Hannibal snorted, _‘It won’t be that easy.’_ “You underestimate Dumbledore’s influence. Haerviu has a little over thirty percent. That leaves around seventy percent in the hands of those Dumbledore can manipulate.” He glanced at Lord Malfoy, a smirk playing around his lips, “Unless you’re saying House Malfoy or House Prince can make up another twenty percent or so?” He shook his head, “Haerviu has enough to pressure the Daily Prophet, but not enough to control the narrative. The non-British papers he holds stock in will take an interest due the link to one of their investors, but we’ll need to make what he’s been through seem even worse, and his death even more tragic.”

Haerviu glared at him, “And how do you suggest we do that, Cousin?”

“Simple. Harry Potter needs to be a shy, sweet boy, who gradually opens up and becomes friends with the Slytherins as well as the other three Houses. Don’t talk about your family, other than to relate how thrilled you are that Heir Malfoy is putting you in touch with your cousin… and act the ignorant, but respectful Muggleborn, while you adapt to the traditions and customs. Follow the Compulsions you’ve broken, but let people see you as being nervous around those you’ve been spelled to trust.” A smirk spread across his lips, “As it is, Heir Vasileios will be able to bring the Malfoys to bear against those to blame for his cousin’s death… we just need to ensure the ‘Light’ will be just as vehement in the investigation.”

Haerviu frowned, “And if I were to ask, and then later let slip that Dumbledore won’t let me stay over the Summer?”

Snape snorted, “It would not look good for him.” He frowned, “How are you planning for them to encounter Count Lecter?”

Lord Malfoy frowned, “Maybe if your uncle were to receive a free trip to America for four? If you let slip that your father had a Squib relative over there, who hates Magic as much as them… but is only one step removed from royalty in the Muggle world… they might try to use you to gain more affluence for themselves.”

Haerviu shook his head, “They’d be more likely to take one of Dudley’s friends.”

Snape cocked his head to one side, “What if Count Lecter were to write to them, saying that he has recently gained custody of his nephew, and that he’d like to encourage the boy to build a relationship with his English cousins? If he offers to pay their way over, in exchange for meeting you and your family…”

Hannibal grimaced, “I’d rather not, but it is probably the best option. Although, I’ll need to arrange an alibi for Haerviu and I at the time of their deaths.”

Haerviu turned to face Lord Malfoy, “Would you and Draco be amenable to disguising yourselves as us? You’re more likely to pull off quietly dignified than Severus.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, _‘Clever boy.’_ “Polyjuice perhaps? I know glamours and the like would be detected if anyone were to scan the area we were supposedly in after the fact. But Polyjuice affects only the person taking it, and masks their Magical Signature, does it not?” Snape inclined his head, and Hannibal continued, “If I arrange Opera tickets for myself and my nephew at the time we intend to carry this out, then you could enter, but swap with us during the Intermission.”

Haerviu shot him a look, “Any idea what Opera? You need to allow yourself enough time.”

“I was thinking, due to your age, that we would have to go for one of the more…” Hannibal grimaced, “age appropriate ones.”

Haerviu arched a brow, “Oh?”

“Don’t push it. I’ll see what’s available closer to the time, but it needs to be something the FBI won’t question, since the victims will be International Citizens.”

 

Haerviu grimaced, massaging his forehead. “Bit far ahead at this point.” He glanced at the adults, “What’s next?”

Grimclaw interceded, “Might be best if we complete the adoption ceremony now.” He glanced at Snape, “Is there anything you need to gather for the ritual Lord Prince?”

“It needs to wait for the half moon, to ensure it works properly. So I can’t cast it until the eighteenth.”

Lord Malfoy frowned, “So tomorrow night then.”

Snape inclined his head, and Grimclaw continued, “Count Lecter? Would you be willing to perform the Adoption Ritual now then?”

Hannibal blinked, “I would. Haerviu?” He frowned slightly, at the hunted look that momentarily overtook the boy’s face, _‘I don’t think his Medical Report shows the full extent of what he’s been through. Curious. He needs to work on his masks though.’_

Haerviu gave a sharp nod, “Let’s get it over with.”


	27. Adoption in Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haerviu finally becomes Haerviu in the eyes of Magic

Severus frowned, _‘Ah…_ ’ “I’ll need a portion of your blood as Harry Potter. _Prior_ to you undergoing the adoption ritual.” He grimaced, “But if you’re planning to tether the form to your new mother’s necklace, then the trace magic you’re using for the ritual will need to be removed first.”

Haerviu sighed, “How much blood do you need?”

Severus grimaced, “Ideally, half a pint.” He drew a vial from the depths of his robes and offered it to the boy, who grimaced slightly, before taking in his own hands. “Place it to the flesh of your wrist, and tap the base with your wand. It will take the blood automatically, and leave no wound behind.”

Haerviu gave a slight nod and did as instructed, shifting back into the form of Harry Potter first, slumping slightly in his seat as he pulled the full vial away from his arm, “Woah.”

Lecter frowned, flicking a small torch beam into his eyes, “Lightheaded?”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be the blood loss. Make sure you drink plenty of water, and you should be fine.” Lecter turned to face Grimclaw as he returned to his seat. “Is there a Ritual Pool we might make use of?” He hesitated before facing Hadrian once more, “It would be advisable to be in the form you wish to make your permanent one when you enter the Pool.”

 

 

* * *

 

Haerviu lay in a pool of water, immersed in the darkness of the underground cavern, the echo of his slow breaths the only sound he could hear, as he lay in the shallow pool. The warm water caressed his naked flesh as it worked to purify him of physical and metaphysical taints. His scars glowed softly, as all those covered by the water slowly faded, leaving only the distorted scar he’d crafted to mask his most famous one. A soft sound echoed through the room, drawing him out of his trancelike state, and he rose, pulling on a pair of soft undyed linen trousers, before walking in silence through a now open door, to the room waiting beyond.

 

* * *

 

Hannibal stood in the middle of a carved Ritual Circle, firelight casting flickering shadows through the room, watching as his soon to be nephew strode carefully into the room, taking his place at the opposite side of the circle, ritual brazier burning steadily between them.

 

Hannibal let his blood spill into the cup, before dipping the medallion once owned by his sister into the red liquid, causing a soft golden light to pool on the surface of the reddish liquid. He spoke then, his voice deepening as he began to speak the Old Greek of the rite, “Aíma tou Spitioú mou. Sas anagnorízo os syngení mou kai onomázontás sas os ápaio mou stin alítheia. Sas kalosorízo stin oikogéneia ópos o Cháreviou Leander Vasileios, o gios tis Mischa Agnes Lecter, i kóri ton spitión tou Vasíli kai tou Lecter kai o Sirius Orion Black, gios tou spitioú tou mávrou. Eíste i Mitéra mou, ópos ítan i aderfí mou. Sas zitó os paidí tou aímatos ston opoío kai oi dýo ypostirízoume.” He sighed, then handed the bloodied medallion to Haerviu, who slipped it around his neck, letting the blood smear onto his bare chest.

Haerviu took the proffered cup from the hand of his almost uncle, and raised it in a toast, continuing the ritual in his own carefully coached Greek, “Aíma tis Voulís tis giagiás mou. Apodéchomai to aítimá sas os mitéra sou kai anagnorízo ti Mitéra Ángni Lékter, kóri ton spitión tou Vasíli kai tou Létter, os i mitéra mou, me ton Sírio Oríona Mávro, Yiós tou Spitioú tou Mávrou, os Patéra mou. Egó eímai o Mitrós sou, ópos ítan i adelfí sou. Apodéchomai to ónoma tou Haerviu Leander Vasileios, kai to diakirýtto to Kyríarcho Ónomá mou edó sta mátia tis Ekátis. Étsi loipón.” Haerviu took a deep breath, and then raised the cup to his lips, a final line of Greek escaping his lips, “Eímai o Haerviu Leander Vasileios, an kai diatiró axíosi gia ta spítia pou écho kratísei prin.” The cup touched his lips, and Haerviu swallowed down the concoction of blood, magic and potion. He lowered the cup from his lips, and allowed the final three drops to fall into the brazier, before the cup dropped to the floor with a metallic clang as the brazier exploded in a pulse of Magic, which flowed through them, rebraiding their connection to show their new kinship, whilst shifting all previous ties held by the boy once named as Hadrian Jameson Potter-Black by his birth parents, now forever known by his new moniker in Magic’s eyes. Haerviu meet his uncle’s eyes with a victorious laugh, as they both succumbed to unconsciousness as the magic invoked in the ritual worked its way through their prone forms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Google Translate (All in Greek - modern as I couldn't find a translator for Classical Greek).
> 
> Hannibal's lines:  
> Blood of my House. I acknowledge you as my Kin and Name you as my Nephew in Truth. I welcome you into the Family as Haerviu Leander Vasileios, Son of Mischa Agnes Lecter, Daughter of the Houses of Vasileios and Lecter and Sirius Orion Black, Son of the House of Black. You are my Nephew, as she was my Sister. I claim you as a Child of the Blood to which we both hold claim.
> 
> Haerviu:  
> Blood of the House of my Grandmother. I accept your Claim upon me as your Nephew, and recognise Mischa Agnes Lecter, Daughter of the Houses of Vasileios and Lecter, as my Mother, with Sirius Orion Black, Son of the House of Black, as my Father. I am your Nephew as she was your Sister. I accept the Name of Haerviu Leander Vasileios, and proclaim it my Dominant Name, here in the eyes of Hecate. So mote it be.
> 
> I am Haerviu Leander Vasileios, though I retain claim to the Houses I held before.


	28. Haerviu In Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Haerviu awaken, and Hannibal shares some details of their shared Family Tree.

Haerviu tensed on waking. Stretching his senses to the max, he listened intently, hearing nothing but a faint rustle of sheets as if by a slumbering form shifting position. He let out a soft breath, and blinked his bicoloured eyes open, scanning the room. He let out a mewling groan, and shut his eyes tight again. _‘Why is it so bloody white?’_ He sighed faintly, and blinked rapidly, forcing his eyes to adjust to the brightness of the presumed infirmary. Nothing but an empty bed lay to his left, but on flicking his eyes right, he noticed the form of another lying in the closest bed. A slight smile flickered across his lips as he recognised the odd greyish blonde hair of his new uncle resting on the pillow facing away from him. He shifted uncomfortably, the itchy sensation of healing bones echoing throughout his body. A low groan left his lips, as he pulled himself into a sitting position, blinking in confusion at the sight of the smoothly polished stone walls, _‘Still in Gringotts then. Wonder how long we’ve been unconscious?’_ His eyes flicked back to his slumbering uncle, _‘Why did I wake first? Surely I should have slept longer, since I was the one undergoing the larger change. Perhaps it’s because he’s technically a Squib? Odd.’_

 

A door creaked open at the far end of the room, several metres beyond the bed upon which Hannibal lay still unconscious. A murmur of low voices came from the space beyond, then a Goblin female, clad in the soft green colour of Spring growth, slipped into the room. She arched an eyebrow in surprise, “You’re awake then. Good.” She stepped closer to the bed, ignoring the snarl distorting Haerviu’s lips at her invasion. She stopped at the foot of his bed, ignoring his uncle for the moment, and cocked her head to one side, before making an odd motion with her hand, an overlay of multi-coloured lights displayed themselves across his form. She hummed, before nodding, and dismissing the display. “You’ll be fine. Give it another couple of hours, and you’ll likely be more than able to walk out the door.” She turned to Hannibal’s unconscious form and repeated the motion, grimacing slightly at what she saw, “He’ll be fine also.” She glared at him, “Though the sooner he stops mumming and opens his eyes, the better. Dratted wendigos always heal faster than they ought.”

Hannibal let out a low chuckle, and opened red tainted brown eyes, “Well they did use to say that you gained the power of that which you consume.”

The healer gave a snort, “Likely story.” She shot him a sharp glare, “More like, in twisting yourselves into the beast, you gain access to your blocked cores… even if only in a mutilated form of themselves.” She shook her head, “Regardless. You’re fully restored, though I’d advise consuming a high amount of _red_ meat for the next few days… your body needs the iron to restore that which you gave in the ritual.” She flicked her eyes to Haerviu, “Be grateful you have free access to your magic child, else you’d be worse off than your uncle.” She frowned at him, “Now I understand you will be undergoing another ritual tonight?”

Haerviu winced slightly, but a low voice spoke from the doorway, as Severus stepped into the room, “He will, but it will require little effort on his part. Merely an invocation asking the ritual to set what was instead of what is. He won’t be the source of the magic used.”

“Hmm. Fine then.” She snapped out, striding back out through a different door, set in the side to Haerviu’s left, “He’s capable.”

 

Haerviu turned his attention back from the exit of the fuming healer onto the curious looking potions master standing at the foot of his bed, giving him an assessing stare. “Yes, Master Snape?” He finally drawled out.

Severus grimaced, snapping out of the mild trance his observation of the boy had led him into, “My apologies Haerviu. I was merely assessing your magic to see if the adoption produced any changes.”

Hannibal let a mild smirk play at his lips as he observed his nephew, “ _And_?”

“Little obvious change, though the Darker aspects seem to have strengthened somewhat.”

Hannibal frowned, “Likely due to the increased tie to House Vasileios. We may share a number of common ties to House Potter, primarily their connection to the last of House Peverell, but we tend to sway darker than they.” He smirked lightly, “It wasn’t until 1699 when the then Heir Vasileios married into the Graves Family that we set aside our Necromancer roots. Ironic considering they share those same roots. Up until then, the majority of our marriage alliances were to Dark or at least Grey Families. After that, we began to tie ourselves more solidly to the Grey, until Aunt Euphemia married a Grey, but Light-oriented Potter producing an apparently nauseatingly Light son.” He glanced at Haerviu, “Ironic how Dark you’re turning out to be.”

Severus groaned, “Necromancers, _really_?”

Hannibal smirked, “Afraid so. Relax, though. Once that Blood goes dormant, as it has in the Lines remaining of the Peverell Scions, it takes a great deal to awaken it once more.” He gave Severus a cold smile, one that Haerviu couldn’t help but admire, “Or are you suggesting a _child_ Dark enough to bury themselves in those rituals? It takes a great deal of Darkness in the very _soul_ of a being to even be able to contemplate them.”

Haerviu masked a smirk as Severus stared at him, “Yet he’s already helped to plan the deaths of his previous guardians, and is now the _ward_ of a _wendigo_!?!” He burst out in shock.

“Hmm, I can see how that might disturb you.” Hannibal drawled out, “However, from what I understand, Necromancy is a solitary Art. I cannot teach it to him, or to any other. Books will do him no good either, as unless one has already stumbled upon the Path, they will only lead the reader astray.” He smirked, “If he will be one, then there is nothing we can do to either hinder or help. Each of those who tread it, take the first steps alone. Help can only be successfully granted once one foot is already upon the Path itself.


	29. Verreaux

Hannibal gracefully rose to his feet, shooting his young nephew a slight smile, “Might I suggest you remain with the Malfoys for the moment? I would however, advise you begin writing to me in order to create our narrative.” He flicked his gaze to the still looming Potions Master, “That is, of course, if you have no need of me for the ritual this evening?” Snape grimaced, but shook his head. Hannibal smiled faintly once more, turning back to face his nephew, “If you have no interest in seeking out an International Owl, then Gringotts has something akin to a Postal Service. You can purchase a document deposit box off of them, linked to your Account’s Manager, and they will either pass it on to the box held by your recipient, or post it from the closest Gringotts Branch to the address provided.”

Snape shot him a shocked look, but Haerviu gave a slow smile, “Well then, I’ll have to look into getting one. Though I doubt it would be advisable to use at Hogwarts.”

Hannibal smirked at him, “Not if you use it to pass me the mail you wish to be sent from Haerviu to Harry Potter, and I forward it through Haerviu’s new owl… allowing you to send Harry Potter to use his cousin’s owl to send his responses.” He paused, “Any mail you wish to send to me can either be sent by your owl to Gringotts if you wish to keep the box a secret, or sent through the box. It would depend upon whom was the writer presumably.”

Haerviu smirked, “Works for me.” He cocked his head to one side, owlishly, “New owl?”

Hannibal hummed, _‘Such an_ intelligent _boy.’_ “Indeed. Haerviu can’t use the same owl as Harry Potter, but Heir Vasileios needs to have something appropriate to his rank.” He paused, “And capable of International Mail. I was thinking something unique, that will impress the higher ranked members of the school.”

Snape arched a brow, “What exactly are you thinking of? Draco is likely to be the only one with an Eagle Owl, as it is unusual for a student to bother with such a large bird.”

Hannibal glanced at him, “His mother intending on sending him a lot of packages then?” He turned back to Haerviu, “I was actually thinking of one of the Eagle Owl sub-species. As you _are_ the Heir Vasileios, you can claim that the Family brought a breeding pair back during Alexander’s Conquest of that area of the World.”

“Egypt?” Haerviu cocked his head.

Hannibal smirked, “Close enough. They’re more of an African bird, but they were rather popular throughout that region of the World at the time, from what I read. I was thinking of a Verreaux's Eagle-Owl.”

“Oh?” Haerviu gave him a puzzled look.

“It’s the largest African owl… not to mention the eye colour of the species is rather uncommon.” He glanced at Snape, “Actually, they aren’t that dissimilar from your eye colour Severus.”

The Potions Master glared at him, as Haerviu let out a snort and drawled his reply, “Well, I think that will be sufficiently unusual.”

Hannibal gave him a smug smile, “Won’t it just.” He grimaced slightly, “I’m afraid I’ll have to be heading back to Baltimore now however, I have a few appointments today, and I arranged to do a favour for the FBI tomorrow.” He gave Haerviu a slight smile, “Keep in touch Nephew, I would enjoy gaining a greater insight into how your mind works.”

“The feeling is entirely mutual Uncle.” Hannibal smiled at his nephew’s response, and slipped from the room, holding the door open for a blonde boy who looked to be Lord Malfoy’s son as he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious, the first link is the Eurasian Eagle Owl, which is what Draco had in the movies, while the second is the Verreaux's Eagle-Owl:
> 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eurasian_eagle-owl
> 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Verreaux%27s_eagle-owl#Range_and_habitat
> 
> This is also your chance to vote on the Owl's name and gender... essentially I want 2 or more votes to remove any one name from the list. Feel free to vote for multiple names at once, there were just too many suitable names for me to pick...  
> Looking at:  
> Giltinė - Female  
> Kalika - Female  
> Kalma - Female  
> Keres - Female  
> Kolera - Female  
> Limos - Female  
> Macaria - Female  
> Maras - Female  
> Marzanna - Female  
> Morana - Female  
> Morrigan - Female  
> Nephthys - Female  
> Aita - Male  
> Azrael - Male  
> Erebus - Male  
> Eridanos - Male  
> Kherty - Male  
> Mordred - Male  
> Mors - Male  
> Mot - Male  
> Orcus - Male  
> Seker - Male  
> Soranus - Male  
> Thanatos - Male  
> Vanth - Male  
> Veles - Male  
> Vichama - Male  
> Viduus - Male


	30. Repercussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...or Draco is pissed.

Haerviu fixed his gaze on the Potions Master standing before him, “I don’t have to do much for this ritual?”

Severus visibly shook himself out of his thoughts, turning his gaze away from the retreating figure of Hannibal, “No. You just need to speak the invocation and fix the image of ‘Harry Potter’ in your mind. The ritual will take the power from Narcissa most likely.” At Haerviu’s confused look, he elaborated, “It requires a connection to the Triple Goddess. As she is the only female currently in on our plans, she is the only one able to perform the ritual.”

The door swung shut behind Hannibal and a young voice interrupted them, “What ritual?”

Haerviu smiled, “Draco. Come to check on me?”

Draco flushed, “Maybe.” He shook himself and darted over to Haerviu’s side, “You just got knocked out by the last ritual you were involved in, and you want to do _another_ one! Are you insane?”

Severus snorted and went to speak,  but Haerviu spoke before he could, “I’m sorry for worrying you Draco.” He gave Draco’s hand a gentle squeeze, ignoring the amused expression on Severus’ face, “The last ritual required me to provide the magic, since my uncle’s core is blocked. This one will be using someone else as fuel, and since it’s only providing a secure glamour, not changing the very nature of my identity and magic, it won’t be as strenuous.”

Draco stared at him, visibly scanning for any sign of lies, before turning to face Severus, “Well?”

Severus masked an amused smile, “Haerviu speaks the truth Draco. Your mother will be performing the magic for the ritual. Not Haerviu.”

“Good.” Draco plonked himself down on the chair next to Haerviu’s bed. “Now.” He glared at his bedbound friend. “We are going to discuss why partaking in rituals which use up a large portion of your core, _without warning me_ , are something you are not going to do again. Agreed?”

Haerviu blinked at him, frozen in shock, “I-I didn’t think you’d…”

“What? Care?” Draco’s glare intensified, and Severus slipped back out the door, his godson’s ensuing rant following him out the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the matter of the Votes:  
> Looking at:  
> Giltinė - Female  
> Kalika - Female +1  
> Kalma - Female  
> Keres - Female +4  
> Kolera - Female -2  
> Limos - Female  
> Macaria - Female +1  
> Maras - Female  
> Marzanna - Female  
> Morana - Female  
> Morrigan - Female +3  
> Nephthys - Female +5  
> Female +2  
> Aita - Male  
> Azrael - Male +3  
> Erebus - Male +1  
> Eridanos - Male +3  
> Kherty - Male  
> Mordred - Male +1  
> Mors - Male +1  
> Mot - Male -1  
> Orcus - Male  
> Seker - Male +1/-1  
> Soranus - Male  
> Thanatos - Male +2  
> Vanth - Male -1  
> Veles - Male -1  
> Vichama - Male -1  
> Viduus - Male -1/+1  
> Male -1
> 
> Consider Kolera now eliminated, as I said a total of -2 was sufficient for that to occur, but the others will remain until the owl is revealed, or a name wins the vote. Previous voters can still vote, mainly because I'm too lazy to work out if someone has voted more than once :)  
> I am willing to move the more gender neutral of the male names into the female category, if they remain near the top of the voting, since female seems to be the more popular option... if you want that to happen, let me know.


	31. A Nightmare Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will finally enters the script...

‘Pathetic!’

‘Freak!’

_The curses of his once-friends echoed in his mind. His heart raced. Will let a low whimper from his throat, as he curled in a ball in the hospital bed, his brilliant blue eyes dull with pain and loss. A burning pain caused him to let out a low shriek, quickly muffled to prevent anyone else from seeing him like this, as he pulled at the bandages holding his back in one piece. Tears ran down his face as newly enhanced senses picked up on the reek of blood emanating from the stack of his salvageable belongings stacked in the corner. The panicky heartbeats of the guards outside his reinforced room echoed in his ears, as they heard the pained sounds he tried to muffle. Will let out a whimpering cry as the burning pain grew stronger yet. Arching his back, he plummeted into darkness._

* * *

 

_A low huffing breath brushed against his face. Still in pain, he opened his eyes, to the sight of a massive black stag standing before where he lay in the midst of a clearing. The full moon overhead sufficient for him to pick out the feathery texture of the oddly glossy black pelt of the massive beast before him. His fear left him, as the stag let out another huff, and turned, pacing its way from the moonlight… back into the darkness of the surrounding trees._

* * *

 

Will woke to a plaintive moan on his lips, his dogs curled around his sleeping form. _‘That was weird. The nightmare was normal…ish. But the stag?’_ He groaned and rubbed at his forehead, _‘Great. I’m becoming even more of a freak._ ’ He sighed and grabbed his glasses from where they rested on the table by his bedside, muffling the visual input of the world around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind giving me an opinion on the other works in the series? I'm unsure if they're helpful as background or not.
> 
> In order of Votes (After working out qualifiers from those who voted for gender only):  
> Nephthys Female +10  
> Morrigan Female +7  
> Keres Female +6  
> Azrael (Now female also) +6  
> Eridanos (Now female also) +6  
> Kalika (Female) +3  
> Kalma (Female) +2  
> Limos (Female) +2  
> Maras (female) +2  
> Marzanna (Female) +2  
> Morana (Female) +2  
> Azrael (Male) +2  
> Eridanos (Male) +2  
> Giltinė (Female) +1  
> Macaria (Female) +1  
> Mordred (Male) 0  
> Mors (Male) 0  
> Thanatos (Male) 0  
> Erebus (Male) -1  
> Kherty (Male) -1  
> Soranus (Male) -1
> 
> Newly disqualified:  
> Male:  
> Aita  
> Mot  
> Seker  
> Vanth  
> Veles  
> Vichama  
> Viduus


	32. The Hunt Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal muses on his new status, and begins his plans for Will

Hannibal stumbled back through his front door, nearly twenty-four hours after he’d left it. _‘If I’m the more recovered of the two of us… Haerviu must be feeling terrible.’_ He grimaced, _‘He’s a better actor than I first thought if he can wear a mask that well… or just used to masking pain.’_ He closed the door, straightening his spine with a series of cracks, and staggered into the kitchen. He stood for a moment in front of the refrigerator, scanning over the contents, _‘Red meat. Hmm… it is to increase my iron content. So…’_ A smirk pulled at his lips as he removed a packet of his own pancetta and a length of black pudding, along with an egg and a bundle of asparagus. _‘Nothing said it had to be_ just _red meat… and black pudding is iron rich, regardless of the species.’_ Humming lightly under his breath, he proceeded to prepare his meal, dishing it up on a plate of spinach and romaine lettuce.

 

A light red wine in his free hand, he carried his plate to the dining room, mulling over the previous day’s events as he did so. _‘I’ll have to prepare a bedroom for the boy. If we’re going through legal channels to ensure the correct paperwork, there will be a home visit at some point.’_ A frown flickered across his face, as he sliced a segment of asparagus to a length more suitable for ingesting. _‘He can have the East Room. That will ensure enough space for whatever familiar he eventually possesses… and the green should suit his wardrobe, as most of it will have to allow for his colouring, and those eyes would contrast poorly with the more yellow tones.’_ He set his knife and fork aside, and made his way to the couch, with the wine bottle and his glass in hand. _‘Best if there is clothing here in his size when he gets here. The illusion of sincerity it will produce will assist with whomever is sent to inspect the house too.’_ Hannibal started clicking through a number of websites he knew could be trusted to provide clothing of reasonable quality, even if he generally only wore such when suits were utterly infeasible. Better not to be seen shopping in malls after all, if he wanted to retain his reputation among Baltimore’s Elite. _‘He seemed rather keen to be a part of eliminating his relatives… perhaps he’ll be amenable to hunting with me.’_ A furtive smile spread across his lips, as he arranged for a wardrobe of clothing suitable for a child sized approximately as an average twelve-year-old, assuming that Snape would be able to get the boy up to weight by the end of the year. He hesitated before closing the window, then grimacing, navigated over to an online toy store, and purchased a series of toys for the appropriate age group. Paying, and leaving the page, Hannibal lay back on the couch, contemplating the sudden change in his life, _‘Chiyoh will find this amusing. Not that I will let them know that the boy isn’t Mischa’s in truth.’_ He sighed, _‘It will be interesting to see how Haerviu deals with Baltimore’s Finest. Hopefully he’s as capable of restraining murderous impulses as I am.’_ A snort escaped his lips. _‘Should be entertaining seeing their reaction to me as a ‘Family Man’.’_ He arched his back slightly, trying to crack his spine as he settled into the cushions, the wine abandoned on the floor beside him. _‘I wonder what this Will Graham is going to be like… I won’t be able to participate much in Haerviu’s games given my Nature… but a game in the Non-Magical world should prove entertaining… it will be interesting to see if his gift is as unique as the journals suggest. Although… it does sound like a form of legilimency. Perhaps a Talented Squib? Someone with a Gift of that Nature would not be abandoned in the Non-Magical World without a reason.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vote Details on last chapter. Nothing's changed since I posted it 30 mins or so ago.
> 
> This is the recipe I was thinking of if you're interested. Actually sounds delicious if you use non-Hannibal ingredients :)  
> http://www.buryblackpuddings.co.uk/recipes/baked-british-asparagus-black-pudding-and-pancetta-salad/


	33. Meeting Dumbledore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haerviu has his first encounter since Toddlerhood with the Old Coot.

Haerviu stumbled along behind a still-ranting Draco, _‘At least he devolved to French… I don’t have to pretend to be penitent when he realises I don’t have a clue what he’s saying.’_ He gave the amused looking adults waiting for them by the floo a cheeky grin, as the two of them caught up with the older men, “So… any clue what Draco’s going on about?”

Severus snorted as Draco turned, shocked out of his rant, and shot Haerviu a filthy look, “What?”

“I don’t speak French, Drákon.” Haerviu gave him a patently false beaming smile, “Russian, yes. French, no.” He cocked his head to one side as Severus let out a low curse, “What is it?”

Lucius slid past the boys, full-Malfoy Lord composure present, as a cheerful voice spoke from behind them, “Severus, my boy! What brings you to Gringotts?”

Severus grimaced, and he handed Draco a pouch of floo powder, “Head home and let your mother know we’ve been held up?” At Draco’s nod, he placed a hand on Haerviu’s shoulder as he turned to face Dumbledore, “Headmaster. Heir Vasileios asked me to be present as a neutral party for the custody negotiations he is currently undergoing.”

“Oh? Anything I can do to help?”

Haerviu’s face was already a mastery of innocent charm as he beamed at the foolish looking old man, drawing attention from the bristling forms of the Malfoy to one side of him, “Lord and Lady Malfoy are standing as my Guardians in the interim while the necessary paperwork is filed to confirm my Uncle taking me in.” He frowned cutely, taking advantage of his slight stature to make himself appear younger and more innocent than one with his history could ever be, “I don’t think we need any help.” He met the sparkling blue eyes, ensuring his secondary shields were in place over the desolate library he usually used, ensuring that all the old fool would see would be an endless void of black. “It’s really nice of you to offer though Mister…”

Dumbledore beamed at the young boy, “Headmaster Dumbledore, my boy. I’m the Headmaster for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry among other things. I hope to see you there in a few years, once you’re old enough.”

Severus arched a brow, but allowed Haerviu to carry the conversation, “Thank you Headmaster, but I’m afraid my uncle lives in America. I’m more likely to receive a letter from Ilvermorny, than Hogwarts.”

Dumbledore looked taken aback, “You don’t wish to attend with young Draco? He should be in his third or fourth year when you arrive.”

Lucius interceded then, “I’m afraid Headmaster, that even if he were to attend another school, it is unlikely to be Hogwarts.”

“Oh, why?”

Haerviu looked penitent at that, still working the innocent child act for all he could, “I’m afraid my family aren’t all that fond of you Sir.”

Dumbledore frowned, “Whyever not?”

Haerviu hesitated, as he heard a muffled curse from Severus to one side, “Well… you see. Mother and my Uncle were the only survivors after Grindelwald’s troops destroyed their Family Home.” He sunk his gaze to his feet, “Uncle thinks that if you’d acted sooner, that our Family would still live.”

“I see. Well, there were a lot of political aspects behind that decision.”

Haerviu gave a shaky nod, tears now running down his face, “I-I know. But it’s hard.” He sniffed, raising watery, blueish-green eyes to meet the old man’s, “I don’t have much family left…”

Dumbledore gasped suddenly, recognising aspects of a familiar face in Haerviu’s own, “Are you related to the Blacks, Child?”

Haerviu froze, giving the old man a pained glare, “I am NOT like him!” He snatched a handful of floo powder from Severus’ hands and dashed it into the fire behind them, vanishing back to Malfoy Manor.

Dumbledore stared flabbergasted, as Lucius sneered at him, before following after the boy. Severus fixed him with a dark glare, “Well done, Albus.”

“What did I say?” Dumbledore looked stunned, “Surely the boy overreacted.”

Severus snorted, “Euphemia Potter was his Great Aunt. Black’s his father. How would you have reacted if you’d been linked to the man who’d caused the deaths of much of the family you should have left?” With that, he dashed his own handful into the flames, leaving a stunned looking Dumbledore at his heels.

 

* * *

 

Severus stepped out of the flames to see Lucius pacing, while Narcissa attempted to calm him, and a pair of sniggering eleven-year-olds draped over the nearest sofa. He fixed the darker haired boy with a blank stare, which morphed into a snicker of his own, “Well done.”

Haerviu gave a mocking bow from his sprawled position, “Thank you kind sir.”

Lucius frowned, stopping his pacing, “How did he react?”

“Assumed that Haerviu overreacted. So I informed him of his relation to both Black and Euphemia Potter. I left shortly afterwards.”

Haerviu frowned, “Since he seems to be assuming I’m nine at best, what do you think the odds are that he’ll try to use me to manipulate… well, me?”

Severus snorted, “Definitely.”

Haerviu flopped back, “Thought so. _Such_ a shame the adoption is already finalised thanks to the Goblins.” He snorted, “He’ll likely try to institute that anyone with claim to a British Title has to attend a British School… and since my _father_ is Heir Black… that would include me.”

Lucius grimaced, “More than likely. Perhaps the sole advantage to your relative’s treatment of you is your appear so much younger than you are.”

Narcissa slapped her husband, “There are _no_ advantages to their treatment of dear Haerviu, Lucius!”

Severus grimaced, “It’s worse than you think Narcissa.”  
“Oh?” A warning tone in her voice.

“Count Lecter is easily six foot, and his Family are primarily Nordic from my understanding. How tall were the Potters and Black?”

“Fuck.” The others in the room all turned at Narcissa’s soft exclamation, “They were all tall. Sirius was a little over five-eleven, and James Potter was close to his height.”

Severus inclined his head, “Lily was five-seven.”

Narcissa sank onto a free space the two boys hurriedly made for her, “Sirius was short for our Family too. He was furious when Regulus hit six foot one.”

Severus nodded, “And the adoption purged the Potter and Evans Blood from Haerviu’s genes.” He swallowed, “Haerviu likely would be taller than Draco already if he were raised in a healthy manner. Even if you allow for his Greek Blood to lessen that, his uncle throws strongly to the Nordic build… and Lithuania is one of the Countries in the upper percentile in terms of height, even amongst their children.” He grimaced, “Britain is near the bottom.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Votes have not changed since the update 2 chapters ago.


	34. Ritual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ritual to allow Haerviu to maintain the guise of Harry Potter finally takes place

Severus stood at the window, staring out over the sun dappled grounds, the others in the house having vanished to make their preparations for the coming ritual sometime before, when a soft voice spoke from behind him, “You’re worried, aren’t you?”

Severus sighed softly, “I am.”

Haerviu hummed, stepping to his side, “Why?”

“You need to ask?”

A smile flickered at Haerviu’s lips, “I meant why in particular.” Severus felt the weight of the boy’s gaze on his face, “You’ve been especially so since we returned from Gringotts.”

Severus grimaced faintly, turning to meet the eldritch stare, “Dumbledore knows you have a connection to Harry Potter now. He’ll do everything he can to control you.”

“We already knew that Severus. What else?”

Severus huffed a low laugh, “His maths for starters. He’ll work out that you have to be at least ten years old to be Black’s son, and given your size, and childish act… along with your scar, he’ll likely realise that you’ve had a _tumultuous_ past.”

Haerviu cocked his head to one side, birdlike, “You think he’ll look in on Harry Potter to check the abuse hasn’t altered his behaviour too severely?”

“Perhaps.”

Haerviu frowned, his eyelids lowering over the unusual eyes, before a savage smile spread across his lips, “Well then, perhaps Harry Potter should be found sleeping in the park somewhere in London.” At Severus’ puzzled look, “The ritual tonight will mask me as Harry Potter as long as I wear the pendant, correct?” At the nod, “Harry Potter never returned to his relatives, and while the Dursleys likely won’t have reported him missing… a young boy suddenly appearing among the homeless will be taken into Care.”

“I don’t see how that is a good thing if you wish to make it to Hogwarts.”

“And what if a case of accidental magic occurs in Non-Magical London? By the hands of a terrified and obviously abused Harry Potter?”

Severus gave him a reluctant smile, “I believe I may have underestimated you.”

Haerviu gave a snort, “No, you just saw me as a child. A sly one perhaps, but still a child.” All emotion wiped from his face, as he met Severus’ gaze in perhaps the most truthful view any of them had yet had from the boy, “I don’t think I’ve been a child since I saw that flash of green light racing for my head.” He stepped away from Severus and slipped out onto the grounds, his slender form making steady progress to the timber circle set up within a clearing in the woods in the depths of the Malfoy’s land.

 

Severus let out a short, huffing laugh, as Narcissa stepped to his side. “You okay, Severus?”

“Not as such.” He shook his head, “I was just made aware of how differently his mind works from mine.”

“Oh?”

“I was stuck on the problem of trying to predict Dumbledore’s actions. Haerviu has already made a contingency plan in the event that his disappearance from his relatives becomes known.” Severus snorted, “That boy should terrify us all.”

Narcissa gave him a soft smile, “But he doesn’t, does he?”

“No.” Severus stared out at the treeline into which Haerviu had already vanished, “No he does not. He doesn’t see us as threats… if that ever changes…” He grimaced, shaking his head. “I would not want to see that day. The Dark Lord was dangerous, yes. Haerviu? I feel he could be far worse if he chose to be.”

“Why?”

“Because Haerviu plans in a way I doubt the Dark Lord was capable of by the end. Perhaps he was like this when he first began, but he gave up that part of himself by the time I met him. He was driven by rage and hatred as much as his vision… not that I don’t think Haerviu is capable of hate, but I suspect his rage is a much colder beast than Riddle’s ever was.”

“I see.”

Severus shook himself, “Regardless, we’d best be off if we wish to do this.”

 

* * *

 

Severus and Narcissa stepped out of the trees, to see a nude, scar-painted, Haerviu setting the last of the gathered timber into the three bonfires spaced equidistant around the shallow pool, set in the midst of the bare oaken trunks of the Circle. He raised his gaze to meet theirs, the blue in his gaze attracting more notice in the evening light, as the sun slowly slipped to touch the horizon. Narcissa bowed her head in respect as she entered the circle, leaving her robe beside Haerviu’s just outside the outer ring, her woad-adorned skin glowing ghostlike as she stepped past him to stand at the bonfire at the far side. Severus mimicked her, but took the nearest, his skin marked with henna, the rust-red gleaming like blood upon his untanned flesh.

 

Severus watched his two companions, Narcissa pale and statuesque even as it grew cooler with the evening drawing on, and Haerviu with flesh so heavily scared that it left as little of his natural flesh bared as the intricate markings he and Narcissa wore did for them. He took a shallow breath, as the sun slipped below the horizon, and the light tipped over into gloaming. “Heylik flam,’ slipped from his lips as if a prayer, and he knelt, letting the purple-touched fire of his magic slip from his fingers into the kindling before him. He heard similar words slip from the lips of his companions, as green tinted fire flared up on his right, and white touched flames on his left.

Narcissa spoke then, the flames dancing before her casting shadows upon her skin, and making the woad appear to dance upon her, “Tha mi a ’gairm air na Dias, sean is ùr, gus fianais an latha an-diugh.” She took a step to the left of her flames, bringing her between her fire and Haerviu’s.

The boy spoke then, the fluid tones of Greek slipping from his tongue, the fire painting his scars slivery upon tanned flesh, “Kathós vgaíno apó to sfyrilátisi tou parelthóntos mou.” He mirrored Narcissa’s move, taking his place betwixt the green and purple burning fires, and like Narcissa, his gaze focused solely straight ahead.

Severus let the Yiddish slip from him next, as he continued the ritual, “Brukhim hbim dos kind fun tortsherd fargangenheyt tsu di brenen likht fun zeyn tsukunft.”

Haerviu took his turn to speak first, stepping forward so that the water of the pool lapped at his toes, “Aftó to prósopo boreí na eínai aftó pou férno tóra, kai an kai den eínai aftó tis génnisís mou, eínai aftó pou thélo na kratíso os dikó mou.”

A breeze swept through the clearing as Severus mirrored his actions, “Dem eyngl iz gebundn tsu a forem nit zeyn eygn far tsen seykalz fun der erd.”

Narcissa moved to match them, their reflections beneath the half-moon meeting in the centre of the pool, the central point a flat stone pillar rising scarcely an inch above the moonlit water, upon which the pendant they were using rested, “Tha sinn a ’gairm air Ban-dia na Tri Faces a bhith an dòchas gun cuir i an riochd ris an canar gu bheil Harry Potter air a’ chrogall a chaidh a thoirt seachad, a ’toirt cead don bhalach a ghiùlain an t-ainm sin aon uair a bhith a’ feuchainn ri dìoghaltas a thoirt dhaibhsan aig an robh gnìomhan agus thug seo air a bheatha fhàgail air a chùlaibh.”

 

The wind grew stronger, drawing the flames into flickering, burning walls about them, as the three Magi sank to their knees before the sacred pool, Haerviu’s voice once more echoing to awareness, as his voice lilted and fell, almost as if singing, “Rwy'n rhoi'r cais hwn i chi, plant o hud. Mae gennych eich dymuniad a'm bendith ar y ffordd rydych chi wedi'i dewis. Dewch â'r rhai sy'n dinistrio anrheg hud i'w doom ... a byddaf yn ystyried ein bargen a dalwyd. Methu â chwblhau'r dasg a ddewiswyd, a byddwch yn gweld diwedd rhoddion eich pobl. Nid yw hud i gyd yn wir, ni all unrhyw beth fodoli heb ddrych, ac wrth i'r adlewyrchiad ddiflannu, felly hefyd yr hyn y mae'n ei adlewyrchu.” Severus stared at the pool before them, as the built up magic of the ritual clung to the child’s form, stripping scars from his flesh as he continued to vocalise the chosen words of the goddess they had invoked. The boy’s normally blue-shot green eyes, wide-open and glowing with the brilliant green of the killing curse. Haerviu let out a shuddering breath, and collapsed forwards, bracing his hands on his knees, as the magic poured from his flesh, billowing around the pendant waiting in the centre of the pool, before it congregated closer about it, finally fading, leaving it shining softly with what appeared to be a protection charm in Severus’ vision. The flames of the bonfires retreated to their individual pyres, as Haerviu pulled himself upright, holding out a hand demandingly, and the pendent ripped itself from its place on the island, snapping itself into his extended hand. He let out a low hum, and ran it through his hands, before slipping it over his head without activating it, and slipped from the circle, pulling his clothes back over newly near-scarless flesh, though the one on his forehead had been left, as had a handful of others. Legs weak as a new-born lamb, Severus and Narcissa mimicked his actions, retaining the silence that filled the circle as they stepped from its confines, silently following a seemingly refreshed Haerviu in his path back towards the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Google Translate - each of the Caster's used the birth tongue of their Family... so there's 3 different languages in use, plus the one used in response. Sorry.
> 
> Heylik flam – sacred flame (Yiddish)
> 
> Tha mi a ’gairm air na Dias, sean is ùr, gus fianais an latha an-diugh. – I call upon the Gods, old and new, to witness this day. (Scots Gaelic)
> 
> Kathós vgaíno apó to sfyrilátisi tou parelthóntos mou – As I step forth from the forge of my past (Greek)
> 
> brukhim hbim dos kind fun tortsherd fargangenheyt tsu di brenen likht fun zeyn tsukunft – welcome this child of tortured past to the burning light of his future (Yiddish)
> 
> Aftó to prósopo boreí na eínai aftó pou férno tóra, kai an kai den eínai aftó tis génnisís mou, eínai aftó pou thélo na kratíso os dikó mou. - This face may be the one I bear now, and though it is not that of my birth, it is the one I wish to keep as mine own. (Greek)
> 
> dem eyngl iz gebundn tsu a forem nit zeyn eygn far tsen seykalz fun der erd. – this boy was bound to a form not his own for ten cycles of the earth (Yiddish)
> 
> Tha sinn a ’gairm air Ban-dia na Tri Faces a bhith an dòchas gun cuir i an riochd ris an canar gu bheil Harry Potter air a’ chrogall a chaidh a thoirt seachad, a ’toirt cead don bhalach a ghiùlain an t-ainm sin aon uair a bhith a’ feuchainn ri dìoghaltas a thoirt dhaibhsan aig an robh gnìomhan agus thug seo air a bheatha fhàgail air a chùlaibh. - We call upon the Goddess of Three Faces in hopes that she will bind the form known to be that of Harry Potter upon the pendant provided, allowing the boy who once bore that name to wear his former face in pursuit of vengeance upon those whose actions have forced him to leave that life behind. (Scots Gaelic)
> 
> Rwy'n rhoi'r cais hwn i chi, plant o hud. Mae gennych eich dymuniad a'm bendith ar y ffordd rydych chi wedi'i dewis. Dewch â'r rhai sy'n dinistrio anrheg hud i'w doom ... a byddaf yn ystyried ein bargen a dalwyd. Methu â chwblhau'r dasg a ddewiswyd, a byddwch yn gweld diwedd rhoddion eich pobl. Nid yw hud i gyd yn wir, ni all unrhyw beth fodoli heb ddrych, ac wrth i'r adlewyrchiad ddiflannu, felly hefyd yr hyn y mae'n ei adlewyrchu. - I grant you this request, children of magic. You have your wish and my blessing upon your chosen course of action. Bring those who destroy magic's gift to their doom... and I will consider our bargain paid. Fail to complete this chosen task, and you will see the end of your people's gifts. Magic is not all that is, nothing can exist without a mirror, and as the reflection fades, so does that which it mirrors. (Welsh)


	35. Crawford

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal meets Agent Crawford, and steps upon the path leading him to Will

Hannibal leant back in his chair at his office, a frown pulling at his lips _, ‘I’m going to have to notify my uncle.’_ He grimaced, digging in his drawer and pulling out a sheet of paper embossed with the Lecter Family Crest, running one finger along the black snake as he held his fountain pen thoughtfully in the other hand. Finally letting out a low sigh, he set pen to paper, writing out an ornately calligraphed letter:

 

> _Robertus Vytautas Lecter_
> 
>  
> 
> _Šią dieną rašau jums, kad įspėčiau jus apie tai, kad gavau pranešimą apie mano sesers sūnaus egzistavimą. Mischa dabar praėjo, nors aš vis dar nežinau tokio įvykio aplinkybių ar pobūdžio. Dabar jo sūnus įstatymo akivaizdoje yra našlaitis, o apklausdamas, ar yra giminių, su kuriais jis norėtų gyventi, jis paminėjo mano egzistavimą ir vardą._
> 
>  

Hannibal hesitated for a moment, _‘He may react poorly to this… but best he knows to lower the likelihood of him attempting to rear Haerviu in my place in hopes of a better suiting Heir,’_ before continuing:

 

 

> _Jaunas Haerviu yra labai panašus į buvau jo amžiuje, ir todėl aš maniau, kad tikslinga įgyti savo vietą kaip mano palatą. Jo tėvo šeima yra išnykusi, bet šiuo metu gyvena su minėto vyro ir jos vyro pusbroliu, o priėmimo procesas vyksta per tinkamus kanalus. Tuo tarpu jam buvo pateikti planai užbaigti korespondencijos kurjerį su Durmstrango institutu, kurio potencialą jis gali lankyti ateinančiais metais._
> 
>  
> 
> _Skirtingai nuo savęs, Haerviu įrodė, kad jis yra tinkamas įpėdinis, sėdintis prie Vasileios dvaro, todėl jam reikės nuolatinio kontakto su buvusiais Motinos kontaktais. Todėl rašau, tikėdamasis, kad galėsite man pateikti bet kokių faktų, kuriuos prisimenate dėl pirmiau minėtų dalykų._
> 
>  
> 
> _Pagarbiai_
> 
> _Hannibal Kazimieras Lecter_

Hannibal grimaced lightly, and set it aside to dry, his gaze flicking up to the door as a soft knock occurred on it, “Enter.”

“Doctor Lecter. I-it’s good to see you again.”

“Franklyn.” Hannibal inclined his head, rising from his seat and motioning them over to a pair of armchairs facing each other. They sat. “Shall we continue where we left off then?”

Franklyn gave a jerky nod, sinking into his seat, and began sobbing, “I-I just hate being this neurotic.”

Hannibal gave a mental prayer for strength, before reluctantly holding out a box of tissues, which Franklyn took a few from, before Hannibal returned it to the exact position he’d taken it from, “If you weren’t neurotic Frankly, you’d be something much worse.” Hannibal gave him a moment to collect himself somewhat, before continuing, “Our brain’s designed to process anxiety in short bursts, not the quantity when you almost seem to enjoy it. It’s why you feel as if a lion will eventually devour you. Franklyn, you have to convince yourself the lion is not in the room.” Hannibal gave him a cold smile, that when unnoticed by the still sobbing man before him, before leaning forward in his chair, “When it is, I assure you, you will know.” Hannibal paused, “Now, let us leave it here, and continue next time.”

“Y-yes Doctor Lecter. If you think that’s best.”

Hannibal smiled faintly, “I do.”

 

* * *

 

Jack sat on the bench outside Doctor Lecter’s office, staring unseeingly at the wall before him, _‘This shrink better know what he’s up to. I can’t afford to not have Will in the Field.’_ The door near him swung open, presenting him with the image of a small, dark-haired man dressed as he expected, and a tall, imposing man behind him, dressed in an unusual, but flattering suit. Jack flicked his eyes across the latter, but refocused on the former, obviously the man he was here to speak to. He held grasped the hand of the man before him, “Doctor Lecter, it’s a pleasure.” The man stared at him, apparently shocked and confused, _‘We spoke just yesterday, why is he so befuddled?’_

The taller man spoke then, steering his companion out of Jack’s grip, “I’ll see you next session, Franklyn.”

Jack froze, _‘Shit.’_

Doctor Lecter turned back to Jack, “Since I don’t recognise you as one of my clients, would I be correct in assuming you are Agent Crawford?” He fixed Jack with a blandly amused smile.

“You would.” Jack grimaced, “Sorry about that Doctor.”

“It’s fine.” He spoke with a fluid accent, denoting him as foreign, “I am aware I don’t exactly fit the stereotype of my profession.” He motioned Jack into the room he’d just left, “How may I be of assistance? I thought we were meeting tomorrow?”

Jack grimaced, “We were. But the case has grown more complicated, and I could really use Will’s particular way of looking at it. I’m supposed to be flying out early in the morning, and was hoping you could give me your assessment of Will beforehand.”

“It’s not exactly the usual procedure Agent Crawford.”

“No, but the killer is escalating or devolving. We aren’t sure which.” He ran a hand over his head, “We has almost no clues as to his identity… but Will… well, he can see a scene from the killer’s point of view. If anyone can catch us the Shrike, it’ll be him.”

“I see.” Doctor Lecter slipped a piece of paper with neatly calligraphed words in a language Jack didn’t recognise into an envelope and quickly addressed it, sealed it, and placed a series of stamps upon it.

“International Mail, Doctor?”

“Call me Hannibal.” He stood, slipping a coat on and tucking the letter into a pocket, “I’ve recently been informed of the existence of my nephew and am arranging for his guardianship.”

“Oh.” Jack shot him a confused look. “His mother?”

“Dead.” Doctor Lecter shot him a faint smile, motioning to the door, “Shall we?”

“Right.” Jack stepped out the room, “My condolences.”  
“Thank you. But they are unnecessary. I thought my sister dead some years ago. However, with his father having found his way into prison, I remain as Haerviu’s closest relative.” The Doctor led Jack from the building, locking it behind them. “You are fortunate that I had a cancellation this afternoon. I you’ll lead the way, I have sufficient time to meet with Mister Graham this afternoon.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Google Translate - Lithuanian
> 
> Robertus Vytautas Lecter
> 
>  
> 
> I write to you on this day to alert you to my receiving notice of the existence of my sister's son. Mischa has now passed, though I am as yet unaware of the circumstances or nature of such event. Her son is now an orphan in the eyes of the law, and upon questioning as to the existence of relatives with whom he would wish to reside, he mentioned my existence and name.
> 
>  
> 
> Young Haerviu is much like I was at his age, and as such, I judged it appropriate to acquiesce to his placement as my ward. His father's family are all but extinct, but he is currently staying with a cousin of said man, and her husband while the adoption process makes its way through appropriate channels. In the meantime, plans have been made for him to complete a correspondence course with Durmstrang Institute, with the potential for him attending there in years to come.
> 
>  
> 
> Unlike myself, Haerviu has proven an appropriate Heir in the eyes of the entailment sitting upon the Vasileios Estate, therefore, he will require continuing contact with Mother's former contacts. I write therefore, in hopes that you will be able to furnish me with any facts you remember in relation to the aforementioned.
> 
>  
> 
> Sincerely
> 
> Hannibal Kazimieras Lecter


	36. Pure Empathy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal meets Will, and develops a new fascination.

Hannibal followed Crawford into his office, a faint smile flickered over his lips and his irises momentarily reddened as his nostrils flared. _‘Interesting. Wolf, but not. This could be entertaining… I do hope he is more intelligent than most of the Weres seem to be. What is he?’_ He gave a polite nod to the slight, dark-haired man already seated in the room. _‘Ugh. Did he roll in a pile of wet dogs? Weres. Ugh.’_

Crawford took a seat behind the desk, “Doctor Lecter, Will Graham.” He turned to face the younger of the two, “Doctor Lecter has agreed to assist with a psychological profile.” Graham glanced at Hannibal, through thick lensed glasses, quickly redirecting his focus back to the file in front of him. Hannibal took an involuntary step forward at the glimpse of his mirror-clear, brilliant blue eyes, but made it look like a purposeful stride towards the case board set up on the far end of the room. Crawford rose from his seat and followed, coming to a halt a pace behind Hannibal.

Hannibal stared at the map, noting the similarities between the girls depicted therein, “Tell me then, how many confessions?.”

Crawford shrugged, “Twelve dozen, last time I checked.” He turned, striding back over to his desk, “None of them had any details… until this morning.” He slid into his chair, “And they _all_ had details. Some genius in Duluth PD took a photograph of Elise Nichols’ body with his cell phone and shared it with his friends,” Hannibal turned to face the other two men, as Crawford continued, “And then Freddie Lounds posted it on TattleCrime.com.”

Graham interjected in a low tone, his gaze firmly fixed on the desk before him, “Tasteless.”

A smile flickered across Hannibal’s lips once more, “Do you have trouble with taste?”

Graham’s gaze flickered to him, before speaking in a resigned tone, “My thoughts are often not _tasty._ ”

Hannibal turned back to the board, “Nor mine, no effective barriers.”

“Well, I build forts.” Graham took a slug of his coffee.

Hannibal walked behind him, pacing to the other side, _‘Very interesting. Perhaps more than a pig this one.’_ “Associations come quickly.”

“So do forts.” Will placed the cup back down on the desk before him.

Hannibal sank into the chair to Will’s left, picking up his own cup, but didn’t drink yet, gazing at Will contemplatively, “Not fond of eye contact, are you?” Crawford stepped back over to the board, giving them an illusion of privacy for their conversation.

Will huffed an irritated sigh, “Eyes are distracting. See too much.” He shook his head slightly, “Don’t see enough…” He turned to face Hannibal, resting his gaze approximately level with Hannibal’s chin, “And, and it’s hard to focus when you’re thinking, um…” He met Hannibal’s intrigued gaze, “Oh those whites are really white. Or, he must have hepatitis. Or, is that a burst vein?” Hannibal huffed a quiet laugh, as Will continued, “So, yeah. I try to avoid eyes _whenever_ possible.” Will turned back to the file before him, addressing Crawford once more, “Jack?”

“Yes?” Crawford stepped back over to them.

Hannibal interjected, “I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind.” Will turned back to him, “Your values and decency are present, yet shocked at your associations. Appalled at your dreams. No forts in the bone arena of your skull for things you love.”

Will fixed him with a disconcertingly predatory glare, flecks of gold sparking in his gaze, “Whose profile are you working on?”

Hannibal smiled faintly, _‘_ Very _interesting.’_

Will turned to glare at Crawford, “Whose profile is he working on?”

Hannibal turned to look at a supremely unaffected Crawford, adjusting his position in his chair as he did so, “I'm sorry, Will. Observing is what we do. I can't shut mine off any more than you can shut yours off.” He drank from his coffee mug as Will leant forward, a predatory grace in his motions.

“Please. Don’t psychoanalyse me. You won’t like me when I’m psychoanalysed.”

Crawford gave him a disappointed look, “Will.”

Will merely spoke over him, “Now if you’ll excuse me.” He rose from his chair, “I have to go give a lecture.” He shot them both a vicious glare as he left, “On psychoanalysing.”

 

The door swung shut behind him, and Crawford spoke, “Maybe we shouldn’t poke him like that Doctor. Perhaps a less… er… direct approach.”

Hannibal shifted forward in his seat, letting a faint note of his interest seep into his voice, “What he has, is _pure_ empathy. He can assume your point of view, or mine, and maybe some other points of view that scare him. It’s an uncomfortable gift Jack.”

Crawford gave a faint nod, “Hmm.”

Hannibal stared at the map on the wall to their left, “Perception’s a tool that’s pointed on both ends.” He shifted forward, and took a sharp breath in, gazing more intently at the map, “This… cannibal, you have him getting to know.” He paused, “I think I can help good Will see his face.”

Crawford hesitated, “Thank you Doctor, but what of the custody negotiations for your nephew?”

Hannibal gave him a faint smile, “We are at the point where they will mostly take care of themselves. I can certainly afford the time to assist where I may.” He rose from his seat, mirroring Will’s earlier movements, “However, I am expected to ring my lawyer on the matter shortly, so I’d best be on my way.”

Crawford stood quickly, “Of course. Let me escort you out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I admit, I scoured videos of episode one to get the right speech for this chapter... sorry :)
> 
> Votes on Haerviu's Owl:  
> Eliminated - Soranus (Male)
> 
> In Order of Votes:  
> Nephthys Female +10  
> Morrigan Female +8  
> Azrael (Now female also) +8  
> Keres Female +6  
> Eridanos (Now female also) +6  
> Kalika (Female) +3  
> Thanatos (Male) +3  
> Kalma (Female) +2  
> Limos (Female) +2  
> Maras (female) +2  
> Marzanna (Female) +2  
> Azrael (Male) +2  
> Eridanos (Male) +2  
> Giltinė (Female) +1  
> Macaria (Female) +1  
> Morana (Female) +1  
> Mordred (Male) +1  
> Mors (Male) 0  
> Erebus (Male) -1  
> Kherty (Male) -1


	37. Dumbledore's Opening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore attempts to get Haerviu under his thumb... without having a clue as to his Family Tree post 1742ish (at least according to the Family Tree I mocked up to work out the miscellaneous stuff out)

Dumbledore sat hunched over an old book at his desk, tracing his finger down the page, muttering frustratedly under his breath, “No. No. No.” He snarled, and shoved the book to one side, replacing it with an even older one, “House Vasileios were supposed to be extinct!” He glared at the book he’d just tossed aside, “And even if they’re not. Harry Potter is the logical next Heir, not whoever this boy is!” He frowned, pulling the book before him open, “There must be something in the terms of entailment limiting who can inherit.” He frowned, “But if he’s Euphemia’s great nephew, then Family Law… fuck!” He leant back in his chair, _‘He’ll be the Potter brat’s Heir, unless I get him to write a Will stating otherwise.’_ He stared into space, ignoring the worried faces of the portraits decorating the walls around him, _‘Unless I can have his Guardianship assigned within Britain… then he can be bound to a Light Family.’_ “Potter will have to die anyway to ensure the proper end of the war… Heir Vasileios will be a year or so younger than the Weasley girl…” A smile distorted his aged face, “And he’ll be the Black Heir as well once Sirius dies… yes. He has to be bound to the Light, for the Greater Good.” His smile growing wider, he pulled a fresh sheet of paper to himself, and pulled his phoenix feather quill from the drawer, unstoppering a pot of emerald green ink as he did so.

> _Cornelius Oswald Fudge_
> 
> _Minister for Magic_
> 
> _Cornelius, my boy, I thought I should inform you that I encountered a young orphan in the company of Lord Malfoy whilst I was at Gringotts this morning. The boy in question happens to be the son of the late James Potter’s first cousin, and as such, the second cousin of Harry himself. Unfortunately, his father is none other than Sirius Black! The poor boy is being sent off to America to live with his mother’s brother, who is sadly a Squib. I hate to say it, but I cannot see how the Heir Vasileios and Black can be raised to correctly meet the appropriate standard of behaviour for his status being raised by an American incapable of manipulating his Family Magic. Not to mention, young Harry will need allies in our world given that some still hold his defeat of Lord Voldemort against him. The boy completely panicked when I inquired as to his heritage, I doubt he has been given any instruction in his future position on the Wizengamot… something that is unlikely to corrected given his stated intention of completing his education at Ilvermorny.  Perhaps a new Law is in order, something to ensure that our future Lords receive the correct education for their status?_
> 
> _Sincerely_
> 
> _Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_
> 
> _Lord Dumbledore, Order of Merlin (first class), Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot_

He gave a broad smile, and sealed the letter in an envelope, handing it to Fawkes to deliver. _‘The boy will be Light. No doubt about that. How can he be anything less given his Family’s claim of descendance from Athena? Though I would like to know why they disappear from the Bloodline Books after Juliana Vasileios nee Dumbledore died.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To answer Dumble's confusion, the Vasileios that Madame Dumbledore was married to remarried since his first wife produced only a Squib and two daughters... Haerviu is descended from the second wife, while the two girls were marked as marrying into Houses Lestrange and Malfor respectively. Achilles died at the age of 5.
> 
> And it turns out, even when you're making it all up... if you bother to work out reasonable names and Family's for an entire Tree... it takes hours to get just one done :( with the bloody Laktar/Lecter one being the worst, since idiot that I am, I went all the way back to 693AD WHAT WAS I THINKING????


	38. Fudged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore really should have thought that move through before he set Fudge on his main Campaign supporter... or Haerviu Meets the Minister.

Haerviu sat perched on an armchair in Lucius’ office, reading through the book Ollivander had given him, which was more like a combination between a journal and a grimoire than anything else. He grimaced at the chicken-scratch writing style of the author, but gave an inner sigh of relief that Ollivander had thought to place a translation charm upon it.

 

> _Kalends Februarius 865 Anno Domini_
> 
> _Father is insistent that, as I am now 17 years of age, I need to travel to learn more about the profession our Family is so known for. As a result, I am currently undertaking a journey by portkey to his correspondent the Lady Lamiaa Laktar, formerly of the House of Demetriou. My planned journey will take me through much of the former Roman Empire… and I must admit to some degree of curiosity as to the foci practices used by the late priests of their people. Though I know my inquiries must be masked lest I fall prey to the pyre._
> 
> _ante diem quartum Idus Februarius 865 Anno Domini_
> 
> _Rome is a cesspool. Though I did find a rather irate hippogriff nesting in the hills above the city. After he eventually decided not to attack me, he provided me with some of his shed feathers. This, along with a cutting I was granted from an olive tree said to stand upon the grave of the founders of said cesspit, are perhaps the only mitigating factors about said visit. Thank the gods that my next stop is in Greece… though I am unsure why exactly Father arranged for me to sail through the benighted islands._

 

Haerviu let out a snort as he read through the entry, _‘Gods. Why the Hel did the boy’s father think he was ready to undertake a voyage unaccompanied?’_

Lucius glanced up from his correspondence, letting a smile slip onto his face at the sight of the usually stern boy happily reading, “Good book?”

Haerviu turned his gaze to him, the blue in his eyes seeming more dominant than usual, “It’s interesting at least. Though the author seems a bit of an idiot.”

“I see.” Lucius turned back to his letter, setting it aside to dry, as the fireplace chimed. He frowned, moving over to answer it, as Haerviu shifted his position to mask the title of the book from anyone who might enter the room.

A belligerent male voice echoed from the floo as Lucius opened it to speak, “Lucius? I say! Dumbledore sent me a letter detailing a great injustice!”

Haerviu snorted, _‘Injustice. Sure.’_

Lucius frowned at the figure formed in the flames, “I can’t say I understand what you’re referring to Cornelius. Would you like to come through?”

“Yes, I certainly would!”

“As you wish.” Lucius rose gracefully to his feet, and moved to the drinks cabinet, “Butterbeer Haerviu?”

Haerviu gave his most guileless smile, as he raised his head from the book before him, “Yes please Lucius.” He paused, glancing at the portly man stepping from the flames, “I can go read somewhere else though if you’d like.”

The new figure froze, glancing assessingly at Haerviu, taking in the fact that he was garbed in the rather plain, but close-cut style of the Russian Purebloods. “You’re the boy Dumbledore was on about?”

Haerviu blinked, seemingly taken aback, as he set his book aside on the end table at the end of the couch nearest him, incidentally, the one furthest from the two men. “I can’t see how…?”

Lucius paused in his pouring of a brandy for the other man, “Ah. Haerviu, this is Cornelius Fudge, he’s the British Minister for Magic.”

Haerviu inclined his head in acknowledgement, “I see.” He rose to his feet, and gave the military style bow favoured by the Russian Purebloods, crossing one arm over his chest before inclining his torso slightly, in a single abrupt movement. “It is an honour to meet you Minister, I am Haerviu Vasileios, Heir Vasileios. If that is the name the Hogwarts Headmaster gave you, then I suppose I am the child he mentioned.” He beamed at the man.

Fudge frowned, absently taking the offered drink from Lucius, “I have to say, you’re not what I was expecting.”

Haerviu cocked his head to one side innocently, as he and Fudge moved to take a seat in recognition of Lucius’ unspoken prompt, “May I ask what you were expecting? I was under the impression that my presence here in Britain was being kept hidden as much as possible.”

Lucius frowned, “Yes Cornelius, I must support Haerviu in this request, since my wife and I assured him he would be protected from any negative attention his unfortunate father might produce.”

“Ah. Yes. Well, Dumbledore said that he wasn’t receiving the correct training for a Pureblood Heir, and that he was being exiled to America of all places! And to live with a Squib, too!”

Haerviu took a sip of his butterbeer, _‘Bloody old coot.’_ , a frown on his lips, “I presume you mean my uncle? He may be a Squib, but he’s also the only remaining member of the Vasileios Line with any understanding of our Magics. As for the training he cannot provide, well…”

Lucius smiled softly at the boy, Fudge staring in shock at the sight of the politician giving way to the proud father, “Haerviu and Draco have become quite close. We would have offered to provide the training for that reason alone, but House Vasileios and House Malfoy have a Contract of Mutual Aid. The goblins notified us the instant he came to their attention, and granted us temporary custody whilst they contacted his uncle.”

“Good, good. But you can’t send the boy off with a Squib!”

“Whyever not Cornelius?” Lucius gave him a cold smile, “Count Lecter may not be an established figure in our world, but he is more than capable of ensuring Haerviu receives appropriate tutors.”

“But it’s not proper!”

Haerviu gave him a puzzled look, “Why not?”

“You’re a wizard, Boy! You need to learn to use your magic, and an American education is not appropriate for a Lord!”

“Why do you think I’ll be receiving an American education? House Vasileios was all but driven extinct at the hands of Grindelwald’s followers, but it would be foolish for me to attend Ilvermorny, given that we still have a rather regrettable reputation given my great uncle’s allegiances in said conflict.”

Both the men stared at him, Fudge taking the lead, “Oh?”

“Mhm. There was a bit of a split in the Family. My great uncle was the Heir, and well, he chose to take up with a werewolf, which would not have been a problem to be honest, if not for the fact that Cyrus met up with a young Grindelwald, who convinced him that supporting his goals would lead to increased freedom for his werewolf mate. His father and sisters disagreed, but… let’s just say I’m sure Narcissa understands how it can be to be punished for the crimes of one’s relatives.” Haerviu gave a soft frown, “For the same reason, I can’t attend Beauxbatons, since Grindelwald supporters aren’t exactly looked upon kindly there, and I hold the same Name as one of his more dangerous fighters.” He shrugged.

“Then why not Hogwarts?” Fudge stared at the boy, who was nothing like he’d been led to expect.

Haerviu gave a weak smile, “Same reason to be honest. My uncle remembers his parents’ slaughter, and the loss of his sister, my mother. He blames Dumbledore, and without sufficient motivation, I doubt he would allow me to attend a school run by the man.”

“And the fact that your cousin will be attending this coming year?”

Haerviu shrugged, “I’d love to meet him at some point, if only because I’d like to have more family, and I would expect he feels the same way. But it seems foolish to pick a school based solely upon a relative I’ve never met, and who I may not even get along with. Draco has already agreed to pass along my address along with a letter I intend to write to him.” He gave a soft smile, “I can always meet him during the breaks. Not to mention my father tried to get him killed.” His smile turned sad, “I would rather not make him socialise with the son of the man who damned his parents… nor do I think it would make for a suitable learning environment for myself, at least not at the moment.”

Fudge gave a congenial smile, “I see, and the school you’ll be attending?”

Lucius interrupted then, “Really Cornelius, let the boy have his own life, hmm?”

Haerviu beamed at his temporary guardian, “I don’t mind Lucius.” He turned to Fudge, “Headmaster Karkaroff was very understanding about the situation I’m in, given that my father is one of the more well-known of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s followers, and has agreed to allow me to complete a correspondence course for at least my first year when the time comes.”

“So, you’ll be living in America then?”

“Doubtful. The tutor I’ve been assigned has a limited range they’re willing to work within. I’ll most likely be living with the staff on one of the Family Estates, with my guardian using a portkey to visit when he can.”

Fudge frowned, “Is that appropriate?”

“Lucius and Narcissa have agreed to visit whenever possible as well, and really, it’s not that different to the Home-schooling arrangement I experienced prior to encountering the Goblins.”

“I see.” Fudge stared at the boy, not seeing whatever it was that set Dumbledore off this time, “And your scar?”

Haerviu raised his left hand involuntarily, to trace the hook shape graven onto his forehead, “A former guardian. The fallout resulting from my accidental magic’s response is how I came to the attention of the Goblins.” He gave a self-deprecating smile, “Apparently my eyes were the sign of ‘the devil in me’ or some such, so he attempted to carve them from my face.” A cold smile met the horrified gazes of the men before him, “Regardless, when the Goblins are done with him, the man won’t get to touch me again.”

Fudge snorted, “If they leave him alive… attacking the last Heir of a Noble House… this might be the first time I’m grateful to the ugly buggers.” He downed the last of his drink, pulling himself upright, and cramming a hideous lime bowler hat back on his head, “Well, must be off. I’ve got meetings all day.”

Haerviu’s smile slipped back to innocent child again, as he stayed curled up with his drink, “Thank you for checking I was okay Minister, I know you must be a busy man.” Fudge beamed at him, giving a warm handshake to Lucius, before stepping back through the flames of the floo. Haerviu’s smile melted off his face, “What an oaf.”

“He is that, but he’s a useful one.” Lucius smiled proudly at him, “You did well.”

“Thank you.” Haerviu retrieved his book, placing the drink in its stead, “Dumbledore should have thought that one through.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so newly eliminated is:  
> Erebus - Male  
> Kherty - Male
> 
> Still up for vote:  
> Nephthys (Female) +12  
> Morrigan (Female) +10  
> Azrael (Female) +8  
> Keres (Female) +7  
> Eridanos (Female) +6  
> Thanatos (Male) +3  
> Eridanos (Male) +2  
> Azrael (Male) +2  
> Macaria (Female) +2  
> Kalma (Female) +2  
> Kalika (Female) +2  
> Limos (Female) +1  
> Maras (Female) +1  
> Marzanna (Female) +1  
> Morana (Female) +1  
> Mordred (Male) +1  
> Mors (Male) 0  
> Giltinė (Female) 0  
> Orcus (Male) -1
> 
> Might still be a while before the Owl gets named, as Harry needs to reappear (or does he?) and Hannibal is going to be a bit preoccupied in Minnesota for a bit.
> 
> Also, feel free to nominate a THEME for a cat name for reasons. NOT NAMES YET THOUGH, I NEED A MALFOY ACCEPTABLE THEME HERE PEOPLE 😉😎


	39. Secrets Uncovered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or Lucius and Severus get EXTREMELY pissed off, and Draco rants some more... or Dursley's get even worse.
> 
> WARNING MAY BE TRIGGERING!!!

Draco opened the door to his father’s study, slipping into the room, and curling up next to Haerviu with a copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch. “Already working on your Transfiguration Draco?” Haerviu nudged his side.

“Severus said she’s harsher on the Slytherins. I figured it would be a good idea to be prepared.”

Lucius glanced over, smiling faintly at the happy expression on his son’s face, and the fond smile gracing Haerviu’s lips as he spoke, “Probably a good call. Sadly, Harry Potter is going to be a pretty shitty student.”

“How come?”

“I shrunk my trunk. Remember?” Haerviu grinned, “So, Harry Potter won’t have access to his textbooks until he reaches the school, or until an adult unshrinks it for him.”

“Oh.” Draco snickered, “That’s not going to go down well with Sev.”

“No it is not.” Lucius spoke up, closing the accounts ledger he’d been looking through, “Incidentally Haerviu, Severus mentioned your plan on how to return to being Harry Potter… when are you intending to implement it?”

Draco shot his friend a sharp look, “What plan?”  
Haerviu winced, “Dumbledore met Heir Vasileios at Gringotts, and we are somewhat concerned he might be driven to check on Harry Potter… but the Dursley’s haven’t seen him since Hagrid dropped him off at the bus stop.”

Grey eyes grew piercing as steel as they stared into the eldritch orbs of their friend, “Oh?”

“Yeah. So, I was intending to have poor abused Harry Potter be located somewhere in South London maybe. That way the Aurors will be able to record signs of my abuse and substantiate the files that Grimclaw was intending to share with the Ministry.”

Draco glared at him, pulling away from his side, “Oh. And when were you intending to pull this off?”

Haerviu grimaced slightly, “We’ll be heading to Hogwarts on Saturday… so I’ll need to be off sometime today, if I want to get to school on time, most likely.”

“WHAT!” Draco launched to his feet, and started pacing, dragging his hands through his formerly immaculate hair as he did so, “Lièvre! Oh toi le cul! Pourquoi n'es-tu pas ARGH !!! Putain de merde! Vous m'aviez promis de me laisser aider ces plans ridicules! Au moins, garde-moi dans la foutue boucle! Vous êtes ridicule! Les amis sont censés s'entraider! Gah!”

Haerviu glanced at Lucius, “How long is this going to take?”

“If he’s anything like my mother? A while.” Lucius snorted, “Congratulations, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him explode quite as much as you drive him to.

Draco snarled, turning back to glare at Haerviu, “Si tu veux que je t'aide avec tes putains de projets ridicules dans le futur, tu ferais mieux de me dire ce que tu as! Je l'ai???”

Haerviu waited until a panting, red-faced Draco collapsed onto the chair opposite, before he spoke to the still glaring figure, “En anglais s'il vous plait Drákon.”

The glaring figure just sat there staring at him for a moment, “You _will_ make me involved in your plans in the future Haerviu. Or so help me…”

Haerviu nodded abruptly, the faint traces of an accent in his voice slipping in stronger, “Got it. I can’t promise always, but I’ll try to keep you in the loop where I can.”

“You bloody better.” Draco paused, before continuing in a much calmer tone. “How did you know how to ask for English?”

“Your mother heard I had no clue what you were ranting about in Gringotts, and taught me enough to ask you to carry on in one of the languages I _do_ know.”

Lucius frowned, “Speaking of. I’ve been meaning to ask how it is that you know Russian and Greek.”

Haerviu smirked, “And why I have an accent when I’m a born and raised Englishman?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Petunia is a stay at home mum… but she doesn’t like spending time with me. When I was little, before they started leaving me home alone, they used to hire the daughter of the couple who run the corner store nearby. She was Greek, and as she was one of the few people who actually spoke to me at that point, I picked up her accent. It wasn’t until Vernon heard me speaking to her in fluent Greek, that she was fired, and he beat into me that ‘even a freak can damn well speak the King’s English’… so I lost the accent.” He frowned, “When I was five, they went away for the Summer, and left me behind. I wound up being taken in by a man who saw me digging through his rubbish bin for scraps. He couldn’t adopt me since legally he doesn’t live in the country, but he let me live with him for as long as I liked. I picked up Russian, and a trace of his accent from him.”

Draco stared, “Why did you go back to the Dursleys?”

Haerviu snorted, “I never knew. I just woke up in my cupboard one day.”

Lucius froze, “Obliviated?”

“Yep. Turns out Mrs Figg informed Dear Old Dumbles that I wasn’t living with my relatives. Ivan was hit with a red spell, that I think was a stupefy, before they obliviated him. I remember blue eyes glaring down at me, and then I’m in my cupboard.”

“I see.” Lucius’ jaw looked tight enough that Haerviu absently wondered if he was going to give himself a toothache, “In that case, I think it’s fortunate that you can mask your accent so well. Haerviu can easily use your full accent, but Potter…”

“…needs to be the perfect image of a Light Wizard. Pure British roots and all.”

“Unfortunately.”

Haerviu snickered, “Funny then, that my glamour includes my track marks.”

A stifled sound came from the doorway and they turned to see a pale Severus, who spoke in a strangled tone, “Track marks?”

“Well, yeah. After I practically bit his dick off the first time, he found it easier to shoot me up before he forced me to _attend_ to his friends.”

“Fucking hell.” Lucius staggered back to the Drinks Cabinet.

A pale Draco moved back over to his friend and pulled him into his arms, “Doesn’t matter. You’re not with them anymore.”

Haerviu let out a soft sound, and curled into Draco’s arms, “Thanks Drákon.”

“Ce n'est rien.” Draco pulled his slighter friend into his arms, “You’re my friend Haerviu, no matter what.” He glanced up at the two men, “The Dursleys better pay though.”

Severus let out a watery laugh, “Trust me. Haerviu’s uncle has called the right for that one… and I do believe he’ll do a far more thorough job than we ever could.”

“Good.” Draco started speaking too softly to his friend for the two men to hear.

 

Severus flicked his wand, as Lucius sat next to him, casting a silencing spell, “We’ll be sharing that information with Count Lecter I presume?”

Lucius gave a cold smile, “Absolutely.” He glanced at the boys, “Do you think he will be okay Severus?”

Severus sighed, “No-one ever reacts the same way to something like that. He has a support network, so we can be fairly confident, but he’s also an extremely skilled actor. At least his uncle has a good grasp of the type of mindset someone like him has… if any of us can help, it’ll be him or Draco.” He paused, “You’re telling Narcissa though.”

“Thank you _so_ much Severus.” Lucius glared at him, “What exactly did he mean by ‘shoot up’ though?”

“Heroin most likely. It’s a Muggle drug whose users quickly become addicted. It makes them pliable and willing to let anything happen to them.”

Lucius froze, “How addictive?”

“Very.” Severus frowned, “Luckily for us, he’s a remarkably powerful wizard even as untrained as he is. His body would have resisted the addictive side of things, and overtime, it will likely reject what part it did pick up. Muggle drugs rarely work properly on Magicals.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOOGLE TRANSLATE (FRENCH)  
> Hare! Oh you arse! Why didn't you ARGH!!! Fucking shit! You promised you would let me help these ridiculous plans of yours! At least keep me in the bloody loop! You ridiculous git! Friends are supposed to help each other! Gah!
> 
> If you want me to help you with your ridiculous fucking plans in the future, you better bloody well let me know what the fuck you have going on! Got it???
> 
> It’s nothing
> 
>  
> 
> Eliminated - Orcus
> 
> Still in running:  
> Nephthys (F) +14  
> Morrigan (F) +11  
> Keres (F) +8  
> Eridanos (F) +6  
> Azrael (F) +5  
> Eridanos (M) +3  
> Kalika (F) +3  
> Macaria (F) +2  
> Azrael (M) +2  
> Thanatos (M) +2  
> Maras (F) +1  
> Limos (F) +1  
> Kalma (F) +1  
> Giltinė (F) +1  
> Marzanna(F) 0  
> Morana (F) 0  
> Mordred (M) 0  
> Mors (M) 0
> 
> Potential names for my cat plan won't come out for a while yet sorry.
> 
> Also, nothing is as irritating as a muse wanting to write out the Triwizard Cup period... when you haven't even reached the beginning of first year yet :(


	40. Masking of the Wand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or Haerviu learns Draco is more than he appears...

Haerviu finally pulled himself out of Draco’s arms, and indicated for his companion to follow him from the room, leaving the two men to continue their Silenced conversation. Draco glanced at him once they closed the door, “Sure this is a good idea?”

Haerviu grimaced, “I can ‘return to Russia’ via the Goblins for the coming year, but Harry Potter can’t just disappear.” He paused, “At least not yet.”

Draco led the way outside to the Moon Garden, “So, Harry Potter will be at school this year, but Haerviu Vasileios will be taking his place at some point?”

Haerviu nodded absentmindedly, flicking through the book in his hands as Draco steered him along their route, “That’s the plan, but the switch will happen before second year though.”

Draco let out a low groan, “So, you’re going to play the Light Twit for a whole year?”

“Da.”

“Okay, I’ll allow you the whole accent and appearance shift, etcetera… but what are you going to do when someone recognises that you’re using Harry Potter’s wand?”

Haerviu shot him a wicked smirk, “That’s what we’re about to solve.”

“What?” Draco demanded, stumbling to a halt just inside the garden, but Haerviu just shot him a wicked smirk and wandered off into the garden alone, humming under his breath. “Lièvre!”

 

Draco ducked through an arch of slumbering Night Jasmine, emerging into the grotto lovingly crafted into a courtyard otherwise surrounded by the Manor, to see Haerviu perched on a mossy rock beneath the rocky wall holding his mother’s collection of night-flowering orchids. “What are you doing Haerviu?”

Haerviu shot him a sheepish grin, and motioned to the book balanced on the stone slab his mother had designated as a table for the area, “Masking my wand.”

Draco blinked, “That’s impossible.”

“Really?” Haerviu gave him an innocent look, “So, as long as you memorise the wands of all active Aurors and Hit-Wizards, you can ensure that no-one can ever infiltrate your group? Is that why there’s so much organised crime in the Wizarding World?”

“But there isn’t… oh. Aurors know how to mask their wands?”

Haerviu shrugged, pulling his wand from his pocket, the lump of dark jade embedded in the grip a spot of dark in the otherwise pale shaft, “I don’t think so, Ollivander was rather _reluctant_ to let on if it were possible or not. He did, however, provide me with a journal written by one of his ancestors, listen:

 

> _Kalends Iulius 870 Anno Domini_
> 
> _Lady Lamiaa and her husband Lord Kariman Laktar have been most gracious hosts. Though I brought a great degree of trouble upon their House in the manner in which I arrived, and though I failed to save either Lady Bastet, their Heir’s Wife, or her daughter Iset, I did at least manage to save her son. Young Nefer is a sweet child, and I wish that I had managed to save his mother and sister from our mutual attackers, but I did not. Fortunately none of the Family seems to blame me for my failure. Regardless, this is not the reason for my writing, and the details of the above are summarised in an earlier chapter. No, the reason for my writing is that Heir Hannibal, the father of young Nefer, received a description from the local militia detailing a person of interest in a case they are investigating. It turns out that the men I killed in saving his son, included an off-duty militiaman. Fortunately, as it was rather dark, they have no description of my person, but they do have a rather accurate penseived memory of my wand. Lord Kariman frowned at first upon hearing this, but it cleared up far too quickly for my peace of mind. However, it turns out, that his grandmother was a daughter of House Naga, that most elusive of Houses, and that he, while not possessing any of the Family Magic of the House, is close with his father’s cousin, who acted as his god-father in our tradition. As a result, Lord Hydra Ophios Naga has agreed to assist in hiding the truth of my actions. I was reluctant to believe any measure of success possible, for I could see no route to doing so that would not necessitate me giving up my wand, however, it turns out that House Naga, while not crafters of wands in the same way as my own Family, are skilled in the crafting of Foci nevertheless. Lord Naga, with my permission, performed a ritual which made my rather plain oaken wand, with its roughhewn state, and basic Norse engravings, shift, until it appeared a shaft of pure ebony, with a smoothly hewn handle, and no sign of the runes formerly upon its shaft. I attempted to question him as to what exactly he had done, but he was rather reluctant to share the details. He did inform me that the appearance is variable depending on the Ritualist’s desire, but apparently it is Family Magic, and so he could tell me little more._

Draco stared at Haerviu blankly, “How does that help? Unless you have a copy of the Naga Grimoire…”

Haerviu lips quirked into a faint smirk, “Well, it’s in my Gringotts Vault, so no, not much help.” He grinned, “Except that he got Lord Naga to write out the instructions in Parselscript for any descendants who might happen upon the journal.”

Draco’s face blanked, “You’re joking.”

“Afraid not. Turns out House Naga was fading even then, though the last member of the House didn’t die until 1860. Apparently you can only claim the House Name if you hold the Family Magic, and as the Christian belief system grew, the idea of snakes as evil did also… until it began to lessen the magic of the serpent speakers. Looks like Hydra thought his House would eventually go extinct, so he allowed for other Parsel-Houses to eventually be able to claim the Family Magic if necessary, since ultimately we’re all inter-married rather extensively.”

“Huh. So the ritual?”

“Rather simple actually.” Haerviu dipped his intricately twisting wand into the miniature waterfall Narcissa had crafted for the garden, until the entirety of the wood was submerged, then he held the dripped piece of wood before him, the two woods more visible now that they were damp, one pale as ever, the other somewhat reddish in hue. The jade stone shimmered where it lay between Haerviu’s two upper fingers, the shaft twisting in a spiral on either side, though the shorter part that lay on his palm twisted more tightly than the upper. Haerviu took in a deep breath, before a breathy whisper echoed from his lips, ~I call upon the power of the Living and the Dead, of Apophis and of Ra, of Nephthys and of Sutekh. I call upon the Sands of the Land of my Blood. I call upon the Fire in the Desert. I call upon the Waters of the Nile. I ask to hold the Gifts of Thoth for a moment. Let the Fir and the Elder fade from detection for as long as I bear the name of Potter as mine own, but when the Day of my Birth passes once more, let the charm slip away, and let it hold its own shape in truth once more. Let the Touch of Death hide within the wood, so that only Life’s Fire may be sensed therein. Let the Holly and the Phoenix mask it as their own, but when Hadrian fades and Haerviu emerges, let the Fire of Life and the Caress of Death meld within it once more.~ As Draco stared in shock, the exotic curves of the wand shifted and darkened, shortening until Haerviu was left holding a straight length of what appeared to be Holly wood. The jade stone was the last to fade but finally, Haerviu appeared to be holding the same wand that so dramatically broke in his initial visit to Ollivanders. Haerviu grinned at his flummoxed companion, “Think it’ll work?”

Draco held out a hand, “May I?” At Haerviu’s nod, he ran a finger down the wand, from tip to handle, “It actually changed shape?” Haerviu smiled at him as he continued, “It feels different, like fire rather than the prickling sensation it held before. Not sure I like it.”

Haerviu frowned, “Random question, but what does your wand feel like?”

Draco tilted his head to one side, picking up Haerviu’s wand to continue his examination, “Ice. Why?”

“Because according to the author of this journal, you shouldn’t be able to sense anything other than a lump of wood. Whether that be your own wand or someone else’s.” He cocked his head, “Unless you’ve been training in wand-making?”

Draco gave him a startled look, “No. I definitely would know if I had, and I haven’t.”

“Something to look into then.” Haerviu plucked his wand out of Draco’s grip. “Shall we see if the adults have worked out how Harry Potter is going to reappear yet?” Draco shrugged, mind elsewhere, and followed Haerviu as they returned to Lucius’ study.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still in running:  
> Nephthys (F) +15  
> Morrigan (F) +12  
> Keres (F) +8  
> Azrael (F) +6  
> Eridanos (F) +6  
> Azrael (M) +3  
> Eridanos (M) +3  
> Kalika (F) +2  
> Macaria (F) +2  
> Thanatos (M) +2  
> Maras (F) +1  
> Limos (F) +1  
> Kalma (F) +1  
> Giltinė (F) +1  
> Marzanna(F) 0  
> Morana (F) 0  
> Mordred (M) 0  
> Mors (M) -1
> 
> According to the Family Tree I mocked up, Helen Pandora Malfor married into House Malfoy, which had had no prior Malfoy-Malfor marriages since the Houses separated around 1066. Helen's mother was a daughter of House Ollivander, which is the original root for Draco's sensitivity, and Ollivander's willingness to let Haerviu share the knowledge in the journal with Draco. Just in case you were curious. Otherwise both Houses hopped around Europe in terms of Marriages, with only a few British ties... mainly on the Malfoy side.


	41. Karkaroff's Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or, Haerviu scares the pants off a retired Deatheater.

A tall, figure stepped from the floo, into the pale uncluttered room that served as the study for the Lord of Malfoy Manor. A sneer tugged at his lips as he registered both his former comrades, Snape and Malfoy, as well as the latter’s wife, arranged on a series of furniture by the room’s window. Malfoy met his gaze with the odd lavender blue eyes so inherent to House Malfoy, “Karkaroff. Glad you could make it.”

“Yes, well, you made it seem important.” His cruel brown eyes scanned dismissively over the Lady Malfoy, disregarding the Half-Blood Snape entirely, “Why did you desire my presence?” Snape let out a low chuckle, drawing Karkaroff’s gaze directly to him, “I didn’t ask _you_ Half-Blood.”

A young voice from the doorway then, cold and harsh as only the Dark Lord had ever achieved in his hearing, the accent denoting the speaker as being of Russian Blood, “I believe Lord Malfoy requested your presence _Highmaster_ for my benefit.” A slight figure swept into the room, the Heir Malfoy towering over him from behind, at least a couple of inches taller. “Though, upon meeting you…” A sneer distorted doll like lips, “I have to say I’m less than impressed.” He turned to face Lord Malfoy, “This man claims to be a Dark Wizard, _really_?”

Karkaroff snarled, “And who are you, _boy?”_

A cold chuckle spilled from the boy’s lips, chilling Karkaroff’s blood as he noticed the pupils of the boy’s eyes start to elongate and narrow, as if a snake’s. The boy stepped forward, meeting Karkaroff’s glare with his own unearthly gaze, before sketching a mocking facsimile of a perfect Pureblood bow, and speaking with a hissing undertone slipping into his accented English, “Haerviu Leander Vasileios, Heir Vasileios, Scion Lecter. It’s truly an _honour_ Highmaster Karkaroff.” The boy spun on his heel, and he and the Heir Malfoy strode over to where the other adults sat, slipping easily onto the couch next to Snape.

Karkaroff paled at the hissed words, and turned wordless to stare at Lord Malfoy, who merely smiled faintly, “Haerviu is currently in my Family’s care until his uncle is ready to take him in. We were hoping you would be willing to extend an offer for Durmstrang’s Correspondence System to him for the coming year.”

A white-faced Karkaroff sank into the proffered chair nearer to the Malfoy’s than the unearthly child, who was still gazing at him with a cruel smirk pulling at his lips, “I-is the boy old enough? He looks to be perhaps seven at most.”

Said boy sneered at him, “I am indeed eleven Karkaroff, it’s hardly my fault that my growth pattern failed to match that of my Family.”

Karkaroff swallowed, but remained focused on Lord Malfoy, attempting to block the death glare he was now receiving from both the children in the room, “May I ask why a correspondence course? Vasileios is a Pureblood House…”

Lord Malfoy grimaced at that, as the boy spoke once more, “My mother’s uncle was Grindelwald’s Schatten. I highly doubt I would be entirely welcome within Durmstrang’s walls with such a heritage.” Karkaroff stared at the boy in horror as he continued, “And given that Sirius Black is apparently my Sire, well, I think you can see why I would be reluctant to attend one of the more Light-Oriented Schools, such as Hogwarts.” An innocent smile spread across the demonic child’s lips, as his voice lost the hissing tone and became infinitesimally warmer, “My uncle is hoping to persuade Ilvermorny to allow me to attend next year, but given my heritage, and the fact that aside from Great-Uncle Cyrus’ actions, my House has been Grey for years, I was hoping to at least gain some understanding of my Family’s preferred School.”

Karkaroff shot a filthy glare at an obviously amused Snape, “I’ll have the paperwork delivered this evening.” He pulled an ancient leather bag from his belt, and held it out to the demonic boy, “Pull out a lump of iron. It will determine under which of the Houses I’ll have to have you filed.”

The boy gave him an innocent smile, stepping into a flinching Karkaroff’s space, “Thank you,” and promptly removed a thumb-sized lump of unforged bronze, which glowed red-hot in his ungloved hands, but did not burn, as it promptly melted before shifting its shape… finally settling into the image of a pair of snakes intertwined in an ornate ‘S’ shape, each biting the tail of the other.

Karkaroff let out a mental groan, “Lokihús.”

The boy blinked green-blue eyes, with a once again normal pupil in their centre, “Is that good?”

Lady Malfoy let out a snort, causing the men to stare at her, “Well Lucius, you did say he was a born Slytherin. I think he just proved your point.”

Karkaroff snarled, as the boy stepped back over to the blonde-haired boy glaring holes in him for being too close to his friend, “I presume you’ll be monitoring his progress Snape?”

“That is the plan.” Snape took a slow, relaxed sip from his tea.

“Fine.” Karkaroff rose to his feet, striding back over to the fireplace, “I’ll have an elf deliver his paperwork and school list.” He turned to give them all a sneer, “I’m sure you can take it from here.” He stepped into the floo and was gone.

 

* * *

 

Karkaroff stumbled from the fireplace into his quarters at Durmstrang, one long detour through the International Floo System later, and promptly uncorked a bottle of Vodka. _‘That boy is a demon,’_ was the last coherent thought he remembered having after dispatching the elf with the desired paperwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Google Translate
> 
> Lokihús - House of Loki (Icelandic). My idea of Durmstrang has it split into 5 Houses, each one watched over by one of the Norse Gods who were invoked at the time of the School's Founding. The pendants allow the students to understand Old Norse, which is the teaching language of the School, and gradually teaches it to them over the 7 years of attendance. The magic taught is primarily of Nordic Origin, rather than the Romanised Celtic of Hogwarts. Houses are Lokihús, Odinhús, Þórshús (House of Thor), Friggahús and Fenrirhús.
> 
> Schatten - Shadow (German), in reference to Cyrus Agapeios Vasileios, the elder brother of Simonetta Artemsia Lecter nee Vasileios. One of Grindelwald's best fighters, and rumoured assassin.
> 
> Voting:  
> Still in running:  
> Nephthys (F) +16  
> Morrigan (F) +11  
> Keres (F) +8  
> Eridanos (F) +6  
> Azrael (F) +5  
> Eridanos (M) +3  
> Azrael (M) +2  
> Kalika (F) +2  
> Macaria (F) +2  
> Thanatos (M) +2  
> Maras (F) +1  
> Kalma (F) +1  
> Giltinė (F) +1  
> Limos (F) 0  
> Morana (F) 0  
> Mordred (M) 0  
> Marzanna(F) -1  
> Mors (M) -1
> 
> Also, seeing Lucius' eyes as the colour of blue lace agate, rather than a Targaryen violet or anything like that.


	42. Heir Ollivander?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the inter-connectedness of the Wizarding World strikes again.

Karkaroff stepped through the floo, and Narcissa let out a ringing peal of ringing laughter, quickly joined by the other adults as Severus and Lucius failed to retain their amusement any longer. Haerviu let a smirk spread across his lips as Draco burst into a bout of giggles. “I thought Karkaroff was supposed to be a terrifying Death Eater?” Haerviu deadpanned, “Doesn’t exactly bode well for Voldemort’s reputation if he’s terrified of an eleven-year-old.”

Narcissa snorted, “You know as well as we do that you’re hardly the average eleven-year-old, Haerviu Dear.” She gave him a fond smile, “Regardless, you purposely went out of your way to terrify the poor man.”

“Yes, well, it must be my Black blood coming through, Dear Cousin.”

Narcissa toasted him with her teacup, “Indeed it must. Welcome to the insanity Little One.”

Severus snorted at that, “I’m assuming Karkaroff wasn’t why you boys arrived, since we hadn’t sent word of his arrival yet.”

Draco beamed, “Haerviu worked out how to mask his wand!”

Lucius set his cup down with a clatter, turning stunned eyes on his younger Houseguest, “ _What!?!”_

Haerviu gave an innocent smile, “Draco pointed out that I could hardly hide myself as Harry Potter with my wand giving away my identity at a glance.”

Severus growled, “And?”

“Hmm?”

Narcissa sat back, amused, as the two men tried to force the boy to speak, finally giving up and interceding, “Haerviu.”

“Sorry Narcissa, it was amusing me.” At her raised eyebrow, he continued, “Ollivander had a journal written by one of his ancestors, which he gave me after I asked him whether the Aurors masked their wands before an infiltration assignment. It turns out House Naga were Wandmakers, and they had a ritual to alter the appearance and feel of a wand. The author of the journal got himself in a spot of bother in Egypt while visiting House Laktar, and the Lord of the House called in his Godfather, Lord Naga, to assist in masking his wand in order to hide the fact that he committed the crime.” Haerviu gave a broad smile, letting his pride show, as he pulled his once white and palest red spiralling wand from within his robes, revealing a plain shaft of Holly-wood with a handle of rough, natural timber.”

Severus stared at the wand, and extended his hand, “May I?”

Haerviu shrugged, and handed it across, Lucius staring at it from the seat opposite, “Did you shorten it?”

Haerviu gave a short nod, “I asked it to return to the form of the wand which the phoenix feather within was contained in prior to our introduction.” He shrugged gracefully, “Said wand was phoenix feather and holly, eleven inches I believe.” He flicked a glance at Draco, “Draco says the feel of the wand has shifted with its mask.”

Severus froze, his attention snapping from the wand to his godson, “What?”

Draco gave a sheepish smile, “It normally feels sort of prickly to me? But after what Lièvre did to it, it feels warm… almost hot actually.”

Severus stared at him, “Draco, what does your wand feel like?”

Draco blinked, “Cold, kind of like grabbing onto a piece of metal on a hot day? Why?”

Narcissa leant across, grabbing onto her son’s hand, “And mine Draco?”

Draco shrugged, “Calming? It feels like a warm hug I think.”

Haerviu was watching the Malfoy Patriarch, who was sitting with his eyes tightly closed, and his hands pressed to his eyelids, “Lucius?”

The addressed man blinked, slowly pulling himself back out of his mind, “Fifteen-Fifty, Phobos Theseus and Lucius Brutus were born to Theseus Nicolas Malfoy and his wife Helen Pandora Malfoy nee Malfor.” He swallowed heavily, “Helen’s mother was Rhiannon Viabianus Malfor nee Ollivander. That was the only intermarriage between the Houses since House Malfoy split off from House Malfor, and my namesake died without children, legitimate or no, while Phobos is our ancestor.”

Narcissa stared at her husband, “What are you saying Lucius?”

He stared at his wife, pale-faced, “I think Draco managed to inherit the Ollivander Family Magic.”

Severus stared at his friend, “House Ollivander is all but extinct.”

Haerviu chimed in at that, “Not really. They just followed the same path as House Naga, in that the children can only pass on the Name of the House or hold the Lord or Heir-ships if they possess the Family Magics.”

The others stared at him, “W-what?” Draco managed to choke out.

Haerviu beamed, “It’s apparently a method used by the Eldest Houses, the ones who passed a Craft along their Lines along with their Family Magics. House Naga and House Ollivander were two of the more notorious ones, with one primarily being skilled at the Masking Arts, with the other skilled at Detection.” He shrugged, “Draco is probably Heir Ollivander if he wanted to get his Heritage tested. According to the journal Ollivander gave me, the eyes are usually tied to the Magics of the Elder Houses. House Naga have green eyes, House Ollivander have Grey. I think House Emrys are supposed to have gemlike eyes, but I’m not sure as to colour.”

Lucius groaned, “Back to Gringotts then after we drop you off in London then.”

“Probably for the best.” A grinning Haerviu spoke then. “So, I need to ditch anything that can’t be traced back to Harry Potter’s purchases here… mind if I leave them in my room?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eliminated:  
> Limos (F)  
> Marzanna (F)  
> Morana (F)  
> Mors (M)
> 
> Voting:  
> Still in running:  
> Nephthys (F) +17  
> Morrigan (F) +10  
> Keres (F) +7  
> Azrael (F) +5  
> Eridanos (F) +4  
> Eridanos (M) +3  
> Giltinė (F) +2  
> Kalika (F) +2  
> Azrael (M) +1  
> Macaria (F) +1  
> Kalma (F) 0  
> Maras (F) 0  
> Mordred (M) 0  
> Thanatos (M) 0


	43. A Study in Contrasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see how three different children spend the Friday before Hogwarts...

A young, bushy-haired girl sat curled in her bed, dressed in a pair of pale pink Matilda themed pyjamas, a vine wood wand gripped in her nut-brown fingers, spellbook balanced on her lap. “Wingardium Leviosa!” She beamed, baring protruding front teeth, as her target, a worn teddy bear lying at the foot of the bed, began to gently levitate in the room. _‘I did it!’_ A quiet squeal spilled from her lips as she carelessly cancelled the spell and began flipping through her book, _‘What else can I try?’_

 

* * *

 

Haerviu watched in amusement as Narcissa dug through his trunk, sneering at the rags htat remained from his time in the _care_ of the Dursleys. “Did _no-one_ even look at you? I mean, _really_ , these are atrocious!”

Haerviu shrugged, “Honestly, I doubt anyone cared. The Dursleys did a pretty bang-up job of convincing everyone they encountered that I was a no-good brat that was only one misstep away from a Juvenile Offenders Facility.”

Narcissa stared at him in horror. “Your uncle better make them _miserable_.”

Haerviu snickered, “Trust me, he has plans within plans… and a year to get ready. I _highly_ doubt that he’ll fail to meet your standard in this.”

“Good.” Narcissa slammed the lid of his trunk, “I’ve removed everything that didn’t come from Diagon Alley or your,” She shuddered, “ _relatives_.” She paused, “I also made sure that there is no trace from either myself or any of my Family.”

Haerviu blinked, “Lucius causes the problems, you clean them up?”

A slow smile spread across her face, “Something like that Darling Child, something like that.”

Haerviu met her smile, and cast the charm to return his trunk to its miniature state, hooking a piece of filthy string through one of the handles on the side, and tying it around his neck. He was already dressed in the same filthy clothes he’d worn during his trip with Hagrid. He gave her one last smile where they stood before the gates of the Manor, “You ready?” At her nod, he closed his eyes, gripping tight to the pendent around his neck, “Plentyn cyfnewidiol Harry Potter.” A smirk spread across Narcissa’s face as his form shifted subtly, until she was faced with a strange child, small and waiflike, with a latticework of scars working their way across every piece of visible skin.

“My gods.”

He shrugged, and spoke in a slightly harsher voice, free of the accents that shaped the one she knew as Haerviu, “It is what it is Narcissa. We can only do what we can to ensure that those responsible pay the price for their actions.” He gave a cruel smirk, that only looked more unusual on a face marred with a nasty bruise spilling up his left cheekbone, than it did on the angelic face of his preferred form, “Shall we?” She gave a mute nod, and gripped his arm, spinning on her heel and disappearing into the night.

  

* * *

 

Shrieks echoed through the house as the twins let off a series of dungbombs in their third eldest siblings bedroom, “OOPS! Sorry Percy.”

A matching voice yelled from the opposite side of the house, “I think you mean Mr Prefect, Gred.”

“Right! Sorry Mr Perfect Prefect.”

A grubby redhead glowered at the door of his orange infested bedroom from his position bent over his trunk, “Ruddy twins.”

His sister gave him an annoyed look from her perch on his bed, “At least you’re off to Hogwarts soon. I’m going to be stuck here alone with Mum. I bet you’ll meet the Boy Who Lived too.” He snorted, giving an irritated role of his eyes at her response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOOGLE TRANSLATE:  
> Plentyn cyfnewidiol Harry Potter – Changeling Child Harry Potter (Welsh)
> 
>  
> 
> Voting:  
> Still in running:  
> Nephthys (F) +18  
> Morrigan (F) +10  
> Keres (F) +6  
> Azrael (F) +4  
> Eridanos (M) +4  
> Giltinė (F) +4  
> Eridanos (F) +3  
> Kalika (F) +1  
> Azrael (M) 0  
> Macaria (F) 0  
> Kalma (F) -1  
> Maras (F) -1  
> Mordred (M) -1  
> Thanatos (M) -1


	44. Harry Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or I feel really shitty for what I keep putting Harry through :(

Hadrian glared at the alleyway around him, utterly disgusted with the dump Narcissa had left him in. _‘Joy. Well, best get in character.’_ He let out a mental sigh, and pulled the mask of terrified, abused child that made up Harry Potter back to the forefront, relaxing his posture to that of downtrodden waif. Giving another mental sigh, he promptly lay down on the pavement, and crawled his way through the rubbish lining the alley. _‘I fucking hate this part of the plan.’_ Trying hard to look as if he was trying to look confident, Harry slipped from the alley, staring around at the street. A whimper spilled from his lips as he spotted a group of teenagers smoking on the other side of the street.

A cruel smile spread across the lips of the ringleader as he spotted Harry’s shaking form, “Well, well, well. Look what we got here boys!” He dropped the butt of his cigarette on the pavement and ground it out with the heel of his shoe, “Get ‘im.”

 

Harry let out a startled yelp, and took off running, even as Haerviu let a self-satisfied smirk spread across their lips, _‘Easy-peasey.’_ He bolted back down the alley, darting into the convoluted maze of streets that made up the area _. ‘Left. Right. Faster. Are they still following?’_ He risked a glance back as he dove around a corner, only to crash into the burly form of one of his pursuers, _‘Great.’_ Harry let terror wash over his face, as he staggered back from the figure in front of him, only to crash into his pursuers. A yelp spilt from his mouth as the figure behind him grabbed his shoulders, “Well, well. Looks like the little brat don’t want to play wiv us.”

Harry let tears wind their way down his filthy face, “P-please don’t h-hurt me.”

“P-please, he says. Well boys. I think we should just let the little brat go.” The figure behind him slipped his hands down Harry’s front until they clasped each other, “Or maybe not.” A cruel smirk spread across the lips of the speaker, “Maybe we’ll just show him why he’s not welcome here.”

“P-please, I-I’ll do anything…”

The figure before him smirked, “Anything huh?” He reached for his own belt, and at that, Harry twisted, and buried his teeth in the wrist of the figure holding him… who yelped and let him go. He took his chance and bolted, slipping back into Harry as he used well-honed instincts to avoid his pursuers, who ‘finally’ hemmed him in at the back of a dead-end alley. A snarl, and then they were on him. Fists pummelled his flesh, and he gave a snarl reminiscent of a feral dog, before vanishing with a sudden _crack_ only to collapse in a wave of pain on the roof of the building he’d spent the last few minutes racing around. _‘Why do idiots always hit so fucking hard?’_ He lay there, borderline insensate as he listened to his attackers curse and split up to search him out.

A loud _crack_ echoed from next to him, and he let out a whimper as he tried to cringe away from the red-robed figure. “Right. Do you know how many laws you just… oh _fuck_.” The figure collapsed to its knees next to him, and he gave up consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean no offence to the residents of South London, I just googled dangerous areas London, and came up with the best plan to make Harry look like a victim to the MOM and make sure he got shipped to St Mungo's.


	45. St Mungo's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AKA, I reveal what Auror Team gets the duty of finding out why there's a bloody Harry Potter in South London.

Hadrian lay listening to the sounds of the room around him. There was a faint sound of rustling clothing to his left, accompanied by the sound of breathing… and the faint smell of sweat and blood. He gave a mental sigh, and walled away his annoyance behind his occlumency shields, and let the pain in his limbs surge to the forefront. A whimper spilled past his lips and Harry slowly opened pain-glazed green eyes.

 

Kingsley sat in the chair, his head in his hands as he waited for the broken child to awaken so they could get an idea of the extent of his remaining injuries and find out his name, so they could contact his guardians. _‘How did a magical child wind up in a situation like that? Surely his accidental magic would have shown up before now?’_ He glanced at the small, black-haired boy, _‘Poor lad. What was he doing in that area at that time of night?’_ A whimper emanated from the battered figure, and Kingsley looked back over to see a pair of emerald eyes, glazed over from pain, staring up at him. He gave a small smile, “Hello, Child. Would you like something to drink?” At the boy’s hesitant nod, he poured a glass of water dosed with a mild pain potion from the jug on the table beside him, and helped the boy sit upright enough to drink it, trying not to cringe when he flinched at the touch. “Would you be able to tell me your name?” At the sight of fear-filled eyes scanning the room, and the boy cringing back onto the bed, he continued, “Sorry, my Name is Kingsley Shacklebolt. I’m an Auror with the Ministry of Magic. I need to know who you are for the report.”

A cracked, raw sounding voice spoke then, “Magic’s not real.”

Kingsley smiled faintly _‘Muggleborn then.’_ “Actually it is.” He flicked his wrist letting his wand drop into his hand, and trying to ignore the resulting flinch, he flicked it, “Expecto Patronum.” A pleased expression spread over his face at the look of shock on the face of the still nameless boy before him at the sight of his lynx Patronus. He turned back to the Patronus, “Let the Healer know that the boy has woken up.” He masked a frown at the flinch the sentence triggered in the child, but had no time to question further as a slight young woman slipped into the room.

“Auror Shacklebolt.” She smiled at him, then turned to the boy, “I see you’re awake, my name is Healer Green, but call me Holly. Would you mind telling me where it hurts?”

The boy swallowed harshly, “My back mostly.”

She hummed and flicked her wand, engendering another flinch, as a sheet of parchment spilled out into her hands, “Well, Mr…?” She glanced at Kingsley.

“He hasn’t said.”

She frowned, “Well that’s not much good is it? I need something to refer to you by Child.”

Another rough swallow, and a slow sip from the cup of water still clasped in his hands, “H-Harry.”

“Right then Harry, you’ve fractured several ribs, a rather impressive amount of bruising and a concussion… but nothing permanent other than the scars you already had.” She gave him a soft smile, and sat carefully on the foot of the bed, “Would you mind telling me how you got them?”

At the rapid head-shaking from the boy, Kingsley interrupted, “Can you tell us anything about them?”

The boy frowned, biting down on an already split lip, a rather nasty bruise spilling across his forehead and eye making it hard to get a good grasp of his features. “I deserved them.”

Healer Green winced, and rested a hand gently on one foot, buried beneath the deep green blankets used in St Mungo’s. “No-one deserves injuries like those.”

The boy shook his head so rapidly that Kingsley was worried about his concussion, “I’m a freak. Freak’s deserve what they get.”

Kingsley exchanged a worried glance with the Healer, before turning to face the boy, “Harry, why do you think you’re a freak?”

He shot Kingsley a panicked look, “I do freaky things. But not on purpose! I didn’t mean to do any of it!”

Kingsley frowned at him, “Do you mean like when I made that cat appear?” At the hesitant nod, he continued, “That’s magic Harry.”

Harry frowned, “That’s what Hagrid and Mr Malfoy said, “But I’m still a freak! Aunt and Uncle wouldn’t lie like that.”

Kingsley brightened slightly, “You know Lord Malfoy? And Hagrid?”

Harry gave a tentative nod, “Mr Malfoy helped me with the Goblins. Hagrid brought me to Diagon, but he left me behind to go to the pub.”

Kingsley’s expression slipped back to the frown, _‘Hagrid? Is he Hogwarts age? Bloody Hell. He looks to be seven or eight at best!’_

Healer Green spoke up then, “Would you be willing to talk to Lord Malfoy if we contacted him?”

Harry gave a small smile, the expression transforming his face, “Yes please.” He paused, “Grimclaw ran a test when I was there too. I think he wanted to share it with some Healers. He asked if he could before I left.”

Kingsley smiled at that, “Well then, I’ll see about getting hold of Lord Malfoy, and Goblin Grimclaw then.”

Harry shot him a terrified look, which quickly went blank, “Okay.”

Healer Green frowned, “How about you send your partner Auror Shacklebolt? I think Harry could do with a familiar face while he’s here. At least until Lord Malfoy arrives.”

Shacklebolt frowned, “Probably a good idea. Do you think you can send Dawlish in?”

She snickered, “The nurses will be upset with me, but I can certainly do so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case of confusion, it started off with H's point of view, and only switches to Kingsley's with the second paragraph.
> 
> Voting:  
> Still in running:  
> Nephthys (F) +19  
> Morrigan (F) +10  
> Keres (F) +6  
> Giltinė (F) +5  
> Azrael (F) +4  
> Eridanos (M) +4  
> Eridanos (F) +3  
> Azrael (M) +2  
> Kalika (F) +1  
> Macaria (F) 0  
> Kalma (F) -1  
> Maras (F) -1  
> Mordred (M) -1  
> Thanatos (M) -1
> 
> Voting for cat names are not open yet, but thank you for all the suggestions.
> 
> I suspect Draco's going to be 'irritated' when he finds out Harry's in St Mungo's.


	46. Lucius Defends Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...I couldn't leave it there, so have a second chapter :)
> 
> Wherein, Aurors Shacklebolt and Dawlish learn that Lord Malfoy has a soft spot for children.
> 
> WARNING - SELF BLAMING FOR ABUSE

~~~~

Lucius sat calmly at the dining table, as he and his family enjoyed an early breakfast. Draco sat at his right, a pout on his lips, “Father?”

Lucius gave a mental sigh, Draco having been rather irritable since Haerviu departed late the night before, “Yes Draco?”

“How _exactly_ was Haerviu planning on returning to being Harry Potter?” He glared at his father, “I’m assuming that drawing attention to his relative’s actions is a component of the plan?”

Lucius swallowed heavily at the look on his son’s face, but Narcissa interrupted, “Indeed it is, Draco. He was planning on instigating a situation requiring him to use _accidental_ magic to defend himself.”

Draco turned his glare on his mother, “And that means?”

 

A house-elf popped up at that moment, “Letter from Ministry Master Lord Malfoy.” Lucius frowned, and took the letter from the elf:

_Lord Malfoy, a boy answering only to the name of Harry has been admitted to St Mungo’s after an attack at the hands of Muggles in London. He claims you assisted him in understanding the Goblins. As he is currently unwilling to detail how he received his injuries, we would request that you come to St Mungo’s in hope that your presence will somehow cause the boy to reveal whatever it is that he is hiding. Auror John Dawlish_

Lucius winced, shooting his son a worried look, before handing the note to Narcissa and rising to his feet, “I’ll be back this afternoon hopefully.”  
He hurried in the direction of the floo, hearing a loud squawk of “ _WHAT?_ ” from his son as he stepped through the flames.

 

* * *

 

Lucius stepped into the room, seeing Aurors Shacklebolt and Dawlish seated around a bed in which a significantly battered Harry Potter was currently curled. “Well, Mr Potter. I do believe you were meant to be returning to your relatives when we parted.” He drawled.

Shacklebolt started, “This is Harry Potter?”

A soft, but raw, voice spoke from the bed, “Sorry Mr Malfoy Sir. I didn’t want to burden my relatives with me now that they have proof of how much of a freak I am.” Harry’s gaze was fixed on the hands clasped in his lap, they being one of the few body parts that didn’t show signs of violence.

Lucius huffed a sigh, and sank into a chair hastily conjured by Auror Dawlish, gentling his tone as he spoke again, grasping one of the boy’s hands in his own pale one, “Given the medical scan your Account’s Manager insisted on, I can certainly understand that reasoning Harry.” He caught the emerald eyes with his own pale ones, “ _However_ , did you really think the streets would be better than the short period you had left with your relatives? I did promise you that I would make sure your scan made it’s way into the hands of the Aurors.”

Dawlish frowned at him, “Did you now?”

Lucius shot him a stern look, “I couldn’t exactly walk up to Madam Bones’ office and tell her that Harry Potter was being abused, now could I? I’m an ex-Death Eater, acquitted or no. I would instantly be accused of faking the details whether Madam Bones believed me or not. For Harry’s sake, I had to make sure that the facts were believed, which meant I had to work my way around in order to do so.”

Shacklebolt sighed, “I see. Do you have a copy of these scans?”

“I do.” Lucius pulled a scroll from within his robes, handing it to Shacklebolt, “And Harry gave approval to…” He frowned, “Goblin Grimclaw I believe, to share the results of the medical scan with those he deemed appropriate to make sure Harry didn’t have to return to his relatives. If you ask at Gringotts, I’m sure he’d be willing to share their copy with you.”

Shacklebolt stared at the parchment in developing horror, at the progression of tortures the young boy before them had undergone, “Merlin’s balls.”

Dawlish stared at his usually placid partner, “How bad?”

Shacklebolt shot the pained young boy in the bed a sympathetic look, noting that the healing potions were finally acting upon the visible bruises, signalling that his internal bruising had been healed. “Worse than much of what we saw in the War.”

Harry winced, curling closer to Lucius, “Sorry Sir.”

Lucius ran his free hand through Harry’s tangled hair, “It’s not your fault Harry. Auror Shacklebolt is angry at your uncle, not you.”

Harry shot him an incredulous look, “But I deserved it!”

Lucius noted the horrified look Shacklebolt shot Harry, as well as the disgust welling up on Dawlish’s face as he read the scan for himself, “No Harry. Even the worst sort of criminal doesn’t deserve that.” He frowned, “Did your cousin get the same sort of punishment?”

Harry frowned slightly, the bruise fading away from his famous scar, “No… he usually told them I did it.”

“And did you get his punishments too?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then how can you deserve a punishment that harsh? If they couldn’t treat their son the same as you, then they shouldn’t have custody of a child… even if you discount the severity of your treatment.”

Big green eyes blinked up at Lucius, “R-really?”

Lucius gave a mental snort, _‘Manipulative little brat.’_ “Really Harry. You deserve to be treated the same as any other child, at the very _least._ ” Harry let out a low whimper, and slowly curled into Lucius’ arms for a hug, causing a shocked sound to escape Auror Dawlish at the sight of the cold Malfoy Lord caring for an abused child. Lucius shot the two Aurors a steely look, “Make sure he doesn’t have to go back there. Even the Dark Lord wouldn’t have allowed a child to suffer what he has.”

Dawlish glared at the other man, “I thought you were imperioused?”

Lucius met him with a glare of equal strength, “That doesn’t mean I don’t remember what happened while I was under its effects. Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom were the only ones under the age of adulthood ever targeted by the Dark Lord. Any other children harmed were harmed _against_ orders. He had a certain reluctance to harm children, one I never understood given the rest of his actions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See previous chapter for voting at present.


	47. Letter From Haerviu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry picks Ron over Draco...

Harry stood on the platform next to Kingsley, who shot his petite figure a concerned look, “Are you sure you want to go to school Harry?” At the mute nod he received, he frowned, “We’ll do what we can to keep what happened to you from the papers for as long as possible, but it’s likely that when it comes out that the Headmaster will try to get you alone to talk to you.” He gave a gentle smile at the worried look, “It’s nothing to be concerned about Harry, he was friends with your parents… I’m sure he’ll just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“T-thank you Sir.” Harry gave him a grateful look, before slipping out from the disillusionment charm, and joining the crowd of students rushing for the train.

Lord Malfoy stepped up next to Kingsley, from where he’d been seeing his own son off, “I would be careful who you mention your investigation to. Client privilege of course, but I can say there were certain inconsistencies in the boy’s account transactions.”

Kingsley shot him a concerned look, “You’re sure?”

“You know I can’t say any more than I already have Auror Shacklebolt. Not without Harry’s permission, and he was reluctant to give me what permissions he did.”

Kingsley frowned, “I see. Will inquiring at Gringotts do me any good?”

“I doubt it. Though you may be able to discern if there are inconsistencies among other accounts with Heirs in similar circumstances to Harry.” Malfoy gave him a sharp nod, and stepped back over to his wife, apparating away as the train pulled away from the station.

 

* * *

 

Hadrian slipped into an empty carriage, curling up in a corner with his Defence Text. The motion of the train relaxing him slightly as it rocked. A sheepish voice spoke from the doorway then, “Mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full?” Harry glanced up over the book and gave a mute shrug, motioning for the grubby redhead to join him. Said boy beamed at him, before speaking up, “I’m Ron Weasley, and you’re?”

Harry sighed, and set his book aside, “Harry Potter.”

“Really?” The boy leant forward on his seat, “Do you really have the… you know?”

Harry cocked his head to one side, “The scar? An enduring reminder of my parents’ murder?” He flicked his fringe back from his forehead, exposing the famous mark.

“Wicked.” The boy leant back, not even showing the courtesy to be embarrassed at his scolding. He continued to prod to try and get Harry to respond, but he merely focused more fully on the open textbook before him.

 

Just as the irritating redhead was finally giving up, the carriage door slid open again, revealing Draco and a pair of lumbering bookends, presumably Crabbe and Goyle, he shot Harry an amused smirk, “Did you hear? Harry Potter is coming to Hogwarts.”

Ron sneered, “Malfoy.”

Draco flinched subtly, refocusing from his silent friend to the surly redhead, “Red hair, hand-me-down robes… you must be a Weasley.”

Ron glared and went to respond as Harry interrupted, “Malfoy? You’re Lord Malfoy’s son?”

Draco gave him a proud smirk, “I am.”

Harry gave him an innocent smile, “It’s nice to meet you.” He cocked his head to one side, “Why are you being mean to Ron though?”

Draco sneered, picking up on Harry’s intention, “Let’s just say some Wizarding  Families are better than others…”

“Harry.”

“Right. _Harry_ , I can help you there.” He held out a hand, already knowing what Harry’s response would likely be, and bracing himself for it.

Harry stood, his slight frame dwarfed by Draco’s let alone those of his companions’, “I think I can tell that for myself, thank you.”

Draco cocked his head to one side, “Fine.” He sneered, and pulled a sheet of parchment from his pocket, “Your _cousin_ asked me to deliver this to you.” A sharp glare accompanied the statement, “I suppose my friendship with him is more important than showing you what a mistake you just made.” He shoved the letter into Harry’s chest and led his companions from the compartment once more, the door slamming shut behind them.

 

Harry stared in shock at the letter in his hands, as Ron tried to get his attention to complain about Draco. _‘Nicely done, Drákon.’_ He thought as he slid back onto the seat and spread the letter he’d written only a few nights before, out on the book as a table, smiling in faint amusement at the ornate calligraphy he'd used.

 

 

> _Cousin_
> 
> _I admit I did not know how to begin this letter. I do not know what you have been told about our Family, but I can attempt to explain our relationship if you would be willing to read it. Your father’s mother was a woman by the name of Euphemia Potter, originally of the House of Vasileios. My mother was the daughter of her younger sister, Simonetta Lecter. I do not know where or how you have been these last ten years or so since the death of your late parents, though the Malfoys tell me that I am not alone in that ignorance. Of myself, I grew up in Russia, and only recently learned of my Heritage. I dwelt with the Malfoys for the last several weeks whilst they established custody for me with my uncle, Hannibal Lecter. As a result, I will be returning to my ancestral estates to continue my studies with a tutor out of Durmstrang until my uncle is assured I am prepared to attend a Wizarding School. Given that Lord Malfoy did not know where you had spent the last decade when I asked him, I suspect you grew up in the Non-Magical World. Knowing Draco, it is then probable that he managed to show himself in an unflattering light. If this is the case, please do not judge me by the same standard. Draco was reared to a certain level of expected behaviour, and he seems to struggle when someone acts in a manner unfamiliar to that which he is experienced in. Like you, I am considered by many as a Half-Blood, though there are those who determine me as Pureblood, but the point of my statement, is that I know something of the differences between Our Cultures, and the Non-Magical ones. I would hope that you would be willing to establish a correspondence with me, but I understand if you do not. I apologise if my writing seems overly formal, but English is not my strongpoint, and so I perhaps over focused on the proper formatting. My mother was born Lithuanian, but raised by her Greek aunt, and I was reared in Russia… English is a struggle._
> 
> _Yours Sincerely_
> 
> _Haerviu Leander Vasileios_
> 
> _P.S. If you are wondering of my reluctance to speak of my father’s House, he was involved in the war which lead to your orphaning… unfortunately not on the side your parents’ stood on. If the fact of my kinship to Sirius Black prevents you from returning my letter with one of your own, know that I understand, and I will not attempt to further communications. If you do wish to write me, Draco has an Eagle Owl, and he has already agreed to allow you the use of Cybele to return this initial letter, regardless of his opinion of you personally. And yes, I am afraid you will have to use his owl, as I doubt any of the other students will have an owl capable of making the journey in anywhere close to an acceptable timeframe._

Ron finally seemed to give up on the topic of Malfoy, speaking with a mouth full of the sandwiches he’d been complaining about previously, “Who’s that from then?”

Harry answered faux-absently as he watched his expression from under lowered lashed, “My cousin apparently. Turns out my dad had cousins. Haerviu is the son of one of them.” Harry shrugged, “He wants to get in touch.” He paused, enjoying Ron’s shocked look, “Any idea who Sirius Black is?”

Ron choked on his sandwich, “How’d _he_ come up? He was one of You-Know-Who’s most dangerous Death-Eaters.”

Harry blinked, “Really?”

“Yeah. Why’s this cousin of yours writing about him? Bloody Hell, he’s probably Dark too.”

Harry frowned down at his letter, “He said he’s his father, and that he understands if I don’t want to write to him because of it.”

“Probably for the best mate. If he’s Dark, then it’s not safe, and if he’s friends with _Malfoy_ , he has to be Dark. The whole Family is, and the Blacks are notorious for being insane.”

Harry shook his head, “No. You don’t know what it’s like to not have much family, Ron. I do. If there’s a chance that Haerviu will be willing to be family, then I can’t _not_ write to him.” The argument was shelved as the door slid open once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No changes to voting. First section is Kingsley POV. Rest is Harry's.
> 
>  
> 
> Haerviu's owl will be showing up soon, so head's up that voting will only last a couple more chapters most likely...


	48. Manners Maketh the...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we see Harry become rather incredulous at Dumbles' idiocy, and Harry learns that not all of the Light are rude.

_‘I can’t believe that git wants to write back. He’s friends with a Malfoy for Merlin’s sake… there’s no way he_ can’t _be Dark.’_ Ron stared at the boy in front of him as the door slid open, _‘Dumbledore said he’d need to be helped to adjust to the Wizarding World… guess he was right.’_

Harry turned a surprised smile on the trolley witch as she stood at the door to the compartment, “Anything off the trolley Dears?”

 _‘I wish.’_ Ron shook his head, and held up the remaining sandwich. Harry stared at the trolley in awe, _‘Stupid git. Bet he can afford anything he wants.’_ Ron hid a sneer, stuffing another segment of sandwich in his mouth.

Harry swallowed heavily, “Can I have one of each?”

The trolley witch beamed at him, “Of course you can Dear.”

 

Ron watched for a moment after the door slid shut once more, watching as Harry carefully picked up a box of Bertie Botts’s, “Every Flavour Beans?”

Ron snorted, grabbing the chocolate frog out of Harry’s pile of goodies, “They _mean_ every flavour too. There’s the normal ones like mint and liquorice, but then there’s liver and tripe. Fred swore he got a vomit flavour one once.”

The other boy paled, and placed the box back on the pile, “I’m allergic to lemon. Probably not a good idea to risk it.”

“To _lemon?_ How is that possible?”

Harry stared at him, “I don’t know. I just know that I tend to vomit a lot and pass out if I eat it.” He glared at the remains of the sweets, many of which had been scoffed by his red-haired companion while he had been examining the beans, he sighed and picked up a box of Cockroach Clusters, ignoring the revolted look on Ron’s face, and quickly read over the back, before shrugging and biting into one.

Ron choked on the handful of Bertie Botts’s he’d tossed in his mouth, “You know those are made from _real_ cockroaches?”

Harry shrugged, “So? Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve eaten them.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“They’re not that bad. Better than spiders anyway.”

Ron stared in horror, _‘What the bloody hell is wrong with him?’_ , and reached for another handful of Beans, grabbing greying fur instead, “ _Ugh_. Scabbers!” He pulled the rat from the box, “What the hell?” Harry glared at him, and pulled his book open, curling up in a corner with the remaining Clusters, and promptly ignored the two of them.

 

* * *

 

Harry snorted, reading over the basic defence instructions, _‘This is the boy Dumbledore wants me to claim as my best friend? This is going to be harder than I thought. Brilliant.’_ The door slid open again, revealing a bushy-haired girl already clad in her uniform and a cringing blond boy in casual wizarding robes at her side, _‘Huh. What’s the bet that’s Granger?’_

She sneered at the sight of Ron curled up in a mess of sweet wrappers, but shot the more studious Harry a smile, “Have either of you seen a toad? Neville’s lost one.”

Said boy cringed slightly, and inclined his head to the two occupants, “Neville Longbottom, Heir Longbottom.”

Ron grinned at him, revealing a mouth full of teeth temporarily blackened by the liquorice wands in his grip, “Ron Weasley.”

Harry sighed, “Harry Potter, Heir Potter.” _‘3…2…1.’_

“Are you _really_? I’ve read all about you of course.” The girl bounded into the compartment, plonking herself down in the seat next to Harry, staring at him as she did so, “You’re mentioned in…”

Her more timid companion spoke up then, “I’m sorry for your loss Heir Potter.”

Harry smiled at him, “Thank you Heir Longbottom for being the first to consider that over the fame I somehow acquired that same day.”

Longbottom smiled at him, “Call me Neville.”

“Harry.”

Longbottom gave him a nod, and left the compartment, presumably in search of his toad, as Granger spoke up again, “I say! How _rude_.”

Harry cocked his head, “How was he rude?”

“He _interrupted_ me of course!”

Harry stared at her incredulously, _‘What the hell?’_ , then frowned, “I’m sorry? How is interrupting you in your tirade on my unwanted fame, when it’s the result of my parents’ deaths, more rude than grilling me on facts, that as far as I’m aware are untrue, before so much as introducing yourself?”

She stared at him in shock, “Huh. You’re as bad as all the other Purebloods!” She stormed from the carriage.

Harry stared after her in shock as his pig of a companion spoke up, “What’s her problem?”

Harry just shook his head and returned to his book, _‘Dumbledore… what were you thinking? Is it too late to swap with Draco?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ELIMINATED:  
> Thanatos (M)  
> Mordred (M)  
> Maras (F)  
> Kalma (F)
> 
> Voting:  
> Still in running:  
> Nephthys (F) +18  
> Morrigan (F) +12  
> Keres (F) +7  
> Azrael (F) +6  
> Giltinė (F) +5  
> Eridanos (M) +4  
> Eridanos (F) +3  
> Azrael (M) +3  
> Kalika (F) +1  
> Macaria (F) 0
> 
> Which leaves Eridanos and Azrael as the only two male names left :)


	49. The Boats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...kinda obvious where this one is set :)
> 
> Thinking I might skip to the Sorting from here...

Draco sat in the compartment, staring out the window as Parkinson and Greengrass argued about the latest Lockhart book. _‘I know it was fake. But Haerviu is way too good at that.’_ He frowned, staring out at the setting sun.

A presence moved to sit beside him, and the soft voice of the Zabini Heir interrupted his silence, “What’s the matter Malfoy?”

“Nothing important Zabini. Just missing a friend is all.”

Zabini choked, staring at the quiet blonde, “You have a friend. A friend other than Crabbe and Goyle? A friend you miss?”

The blonde spun to glare at him, the flashing of his mercury eyes the only sign of his anger, as his voice grew even colder than his father’s was so known for, “ _Yes._ Heir Zabini. I have a _friend._ Thank you for believing the mask I put on. I’m sure Gryffindor will be _thrilled_ to accept you into their ranks.”

Greengrass sneered, “Oh come now, Malfoy. Everyone knows your Family only socialise with their subordinates.” She glanced pointedly at the pigging out forms of Crabbe and Goyle, “No-one _worthy_ of the friendship of the Heir of the House of Malfoy. Why would Blaise believe otherwise?” There was a snort from the other side of the carriage, and she turned to glare at the brunette sitting hunched over a book, “Something funny _Nott_?”

A coolly crisp voice spoke up, as he set his book aside and turned to look at the fuming Malfoy, “Not especially Greengrass.” He cocked his head to one side, “Was Heir Vasileios able to resolve the situation he found himself in Heir Malfoy?” Draco arched an eyebrow, inviting Nott to continue, which he did, “Your father reached out to my grandfather to ensure the paperwork ensuring his guardianship didn’t disappear after he learned of Dumbledore’s interest.”

Draco smiled coolly, “Yes. The situation has been resolved nicely. Haerviu is studying Durmstrang’s curriculum this coming year. He left for one of his Family Estates earlier today.”

Nott inclined his head, “I’m glad.” A brief pause, as he reopened his book, “Call me Theo.”  
Draco quirked a soft smile, “Draco.”

 

The remaining occupants stared at Draco in shock, “Heir Vasileios? I thought that House was extinct!” Parkinson finally burst out.

Greengrass frowned, “Is that why my mother was talking to her continental contacts? She only said that your mother asked her for a favour.”

Draco rolled his eyes, “Extinct in the Male Line. The last Heir died fighting for Grindelwald. His father did something to ensure the Line would go to the first of his descendants to fulfil the conditions. Haerviu did, and took the Name.” He shrugged, “I believe Mother was trying to determine his uncle’s temperament. Apparently your mother was of only limited help however, Father wound up going through the Goblins.”

Goyle spoke up then, “Wat’d you give Po’er?”

Draco groaned, “Swallow Greg.” He turned to glare at the troll like boy, “I gave him a letter from his cousin. Who happens to be Haerviu yes.” His gaze flicked over his companions, “His maternal grandmother was the younger sister of Potter’s Paternal Grandmother. Haerviu wanted to make contact.”

Zabini gazed at him assessingly, “So why was he going through your House?”

“House Malfoy and House Vasileios have a Contract of Mutual Aid. The Goblins put him in touch with us. He’s also Mother’s cousin.” At that, Draco turned back to the window, ignoring the others as they attempted to grill him further. _‘Idiots. Haerviu is going to humiliate them… and he’s planning on Gryffindor this year too. This is going to suck.’_

 

* * *

 

Harry stepped off the Express, and instantly felt tiny as he was dwarfed by his fellow students, as he heard Hagrid bellowing for the First Years. _‘Great. The Oaf.’_ He gave a mental sigh, and navigated his way over to the other students in his age group, bumping into Draco as he passed, and murmuring under his breath, “Weasleys…”, a snort his only response. He promptly tagged along behind Neville and the two girls boarding the brittle looking boats alongside him. “Neville.”

“Harry!” Neville beamed at him, “May I introduce Susan Bones, Heiress Bones and Hannah Abbott, Scion Abbott.”

Harry smiled gently, “Harry Potter, Heir Potter.” The two girls smiled at him, but the one pointed out as Heiress Bones seemed to be giving him a more assessing look. _‘Hmm, has Madame Bones asked her to keep an eye on me? Interesting.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voting:  
> Still in running:  
> Nephthys (F) +18  
> Morrigan (F) +13  
> Keres (F) +8  
> Azrael (F) +8  
> Giltinė (F) +5  
> Azrael (M) +4  
> Eridanos (M) +2  
> Eridanos (F) +1  
> Kalika (F) 0  
> Macaria (F) -1


	50. Sorting...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry makes inquiries of the Hat, and Draco starts to sow the seeds...

Dumbledore sat upon his throne at the Head Table as the doors to the Great Hall slowly swung open, revealing the eager faces of the latest batch of students, the bushy-head of the Granger girl at the front of the group, _‘Everything is going to plan.’_ The Malfoy Heir shot him a vicious glare, before redirecting his attention to his godfather, _‘Hmm, Cornelius must have told Lucius that I informed him as to the Vasileios boy’s presence.’_

 

* * *

 

Voldemort sat at the table beside Severus, eyes glowing faintly red through Quirrell’s own, _‘Which is the Potter Boy?’_ He stared at the slight figure amongst the other children, green eyes catching his own. The boy flinched, rubbing at his forehead, revealing the famous scar. Voldemort got an impression of emptiness and pain, before the connection abruptly broke, the boy redirecting his attention to send the redhead who bumped into him a venomous glare.

 

* * *

 

Harry watched unconcerned as Draco strode up to the Hat… “Slytherin!”

 _‘Of course.’_ A soft smile played around his lips, as Draco strode over to the quietly clapping silver and green table.

McGonagall raised the list once more, “Parkinson… Patil… Patil… Potter.”

Harry grimaced, and made his way through the suddenly raucous crowd as they all leant to get a glimpse of their famous boy hero… “Harry Potter?”

“Bit small ain’t he?”

Hadrian snorted at the last, as the Hat was set down upon his head. _‘Now aren’t you an interesting child.’_

Hadrian arched a brow, secure in the knowledge it was hidden beneath the brim of the hat, _‘They use a mind-reading hat to sort students… of course they do. Any chance…’_

_‘Completely confidential Heir Potter… my word you have a lot of Families claiming you.’_

_‘That I do. What of it?’_

_‘Just a surprise is all. Now, where to put you…’_

_‘I’m assuming you’ve seen my plans?’_

The voice took an amused tone, _‘I have.’_

_‘Then may I enquire if they’ll work in regard to you?’_

A mental snort echoed through his mind, _‘Normally I don’t allow resorts… but you’re a Founders’ Heir, so… yes. I will be willing to resort you when you return… I doubt you’ll be able to endure the House of Lions for long.’_

Hadrian snorted, _‘If Severus’ opinion of them holds any water… doubtless you’re correct. All the same…’_

 _‘Yes, yes,’  “_ GRYFFINDOR!”

A row of applause shook the Hall, as the Hat was lifted from Harry’s head. He shot McGonagall a soft smile, before making his slow way to the Gryffindor Table. _‘Gods… if I last a week it’ll be a miracle.’_

 

* * *

 

Draco let out a snicker at the shocked look for once visible on the Potter Heir’s face. Theo shot him a perplexed look from across the table, “Draco?”

“Potter. He doesn’t look to be having much fun in the House of Lions.”

Zabini snorted, “Who cares?”

Warrington gave a snort from his seat further up the table, “He may be the son of a Mugglelover, but he’s still an Heir of an Ancient and Noble House Zabini. It might behove you to be more politic.”

Zabini arched a brow, “The Potters are Ancient?”

Draco shook his head, “The Blacks are. Sirius Black named Potter his Heir before…” He waved his hand expressively, “Potter is currently the Heir-Lord Black technically unless Sirius gets himself released.” He frowned, “I believe Haerviu is next in Line after him though.”

Fawley shot him a look from beside Warrington, “Who?”

Greengrass sneered, “Malfoy’s _friend_.”

Draco snorted, “Haerviu Vasileios, Heir Vasileios. He’s the natural son of Sirius Black.” A sneer flickered across his lips as he glared at Greengrass, “Hence why he chose _not_ to attend Hogwarts until he’s sure if his cousin will take well to his presence or not. Not that Durmstrang is honestly much safer.” A smile flickered across his lips, as he placed a piece of perfectly cooked steak in his mouth, noting how the Slytherins in earshot were attempting to listen in, _‘Guess they hadn’t heard there was a new Heir.’_

Warrington glared at the smirking blonde, “And why is Durmstrang no safer?”

Carrow snorted from further up the table, glancing at Draco, “Vasileios you said?” At Draco’s nod, he continued, “Cyrus Vasileios, the _last_ Heir of the House was killed in service to Grindelwald. I was under the impression the rest of the House perished around the same time.”

Draco smirked wider, “Euphemia Potter was born Euphemia Vasileios. Haerviu is the grandson of her youngest sister. Mischa Lecter and her brother Hannibal, along with Agnes Vasileios were the only survivors from the Family. From what I understand, Mischa died recently, with Agnes dying a few years ago… Haerviu is under the custody of his uncle, Count Lecter.”

Zabini choked at that, “He’s a _Squib_!”

Theo frowned, “And you know that how?”

Zabini grimaced, “Mother finds him entertaining… they exchange dinner invitations from time to time.” He frowned at Draco, “You sure he has custody?”

“I am.” Draco swallowed another bite, fixing Zabini with his mercury eyes, “As I said however, Haerviu is living on one of the Family Estates at present. He was disinclined to attend a school which his Heritage might cause him to be resented at… if Potter reacts favourably to his attempt to make contact, then he intends to transfer here next year. I believe Father is helping Count Lecter prepare the paperwork.”

Carrow gave him a look, “Not Ilvermorny?”

“No.” Draco gave him a cold smile, “Haerviu finds the climate preferable to his health.”

Zabini gave him an incredulous look, “He’s _Greek_!”

“And?” Draco cocked his head, faux innocently, “He’s also a Lecter. They claim Lithuania as the Land of their Origin… and he was reared in Russia. Scotland is perfectly acceptable in his eyes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ELIMINATED:  
> Macaria (F)
> 
>  
> 
> Voting:  
> Still in running:  
> Nephthys (F) +18  
> Morrigan (F) +14  
> Keres (F) +9  
> Azrael (F) +7  
> Giltinė (F) +4  
> Azrael (M) +4  
> Eridanos (M) +3  
> Eridanos (F) 0  
> Kalika (F) 0


	51. Potions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...or Harry is apparently more irritated than he initially let on...

Harry curled up on his bed, closed book balanced on his lap, quill in his right hand. Ignoring the puzzled looks of his roommates, he unrolled a sheet of parchment and began to painstakingly scribe a response to the letter from his ‘cousin’.

 

> _Dear ~~Harviu~~ Haerviu_
> 
> _Is Haerviu okay? I’m not sure how I ~~shud~~ should rite this letter. I thought the Dursleys were my only family. I don’t mind if you want to rite to me. Can ~~yuo~~ you tel me more about my parents? Aunt refused to talk about them. I don’t care what your father did. Family isn’t evrything. Lord Malfoy helped me at Gringotts. Turns out a lot of ~~thigns~~ things are going on that shouldn’t be. He seemed nice. Draco is a prat. Is he difrent with you? Can you explane the difrences between Wizards and Mugles? I don’t get what you mean by Culture(?). What’s your uncle like? What do you mean you’re a Pureblood and a Halfblood?_
> 
> _Harry Poter, Hair Poter_

Harry grimaced as he set the letter aside, the blotchy chicken scratch of his handwriting looking utterly wretched next to the smooth calligraphy he used as Haerviu. _‘Never thought I’d be grateful for having my arm broken.’_ He set the letter aside, after dusting it lightly with sand, and readied himself for bed.

 

* * *

 

Draco sank onto the bench in the chill of the Potion’s Lab the next morning next to Theo, for the first Slytherin/Gryffindor class of the year, noting a tightness to Harry’s eyes as he followed the Weasley brat in. _‘Really Li_ _èvre? It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours? How bad can the Gryffindors be?’_

He flinched, turning to face his tablemate as he felt an elbow impact his side, “Stop staring at Potter, Draco. You don’t want the Gryffs thinking you’re going to do something to him.”

Draco sighed, “You’re right. But there’s something off there. He doesn’t look happy in Gryffindor.” A bushy-haired Gryffindor female slammed her textbook down next to Harry at that moment, causing him to flinch violently, and cringe away from her. Draco gave Theo a meaningful look, “See.”

Theo frowned, “I see it. That doesn’t look normal.”

“I know.” He glanced back at Theo, “Father’s working on it… but well, Dumbledore.”

Theo shot him a worried look, “There’s something going on?”

“Yes.” Draco focused on the glaring form of his godfather, “Not the time though.”

 

* * *

 

Snape glared impatiently out at the settling first years, masking the focus of his gaze, _‘He’s surprisingly good at pulling the abused boy back to the fore.’_ He met Draco’s gaze, seeing the manipulations he was beginning, _‘Clever Draco, very clever.’_ He let a sneer pull to his lips, as he noticed Potter positioning a quill atop his parchment, and began the roll, hesitating when he reached the accursed name, “Ah, yes,” he let the sneer affect his speech, “Harry Potter. Our new _celebrity._ ” He finished the roll, glaring around the classroom, and let the passion for his art fill his cold voice as he continued, "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but he knew they caught every word, he had long mastered the art of keeping a class silent without effort, "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death…” He let the sneer pull back to his face, as he snarled the last few words, “If you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." _‘Taking notes_ Potter _? Really? I thought you were acting the fool with this identity?’_ “Potter!” He snapped, breaking the spellbound silence, said boy’s gaze jerked up to meet Snape’s eyes, fear painted across his features. He swallowed the instinctive reaction to that look in Lily’s eyes and snarled out his first question, “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Potter swallowed, and spoke in a low voice, “I don’t know, Sir.”

“Tut, tut, fame clearly isn’t everything.” He ignored the raised hand of Potter’s bushy-haired tablemate, “Let’s try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

“I don’t know, Sir.” The boy cringed towards the aisle, attempting to dodge the girl’s flailing arm.

“Hmm, what is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

“I don’t…”

“Honestly!” Granger burst out, leaping to her feet. “Asphodel in an infusion of wormwood makes the Draft of Living Death.” Her voice got progressively louder as she continued, “A bezoar is found in the stomach of a goat.” Snape’s glare at her began to get icier as the Slytherins and those Gryffindor’s forewarned stared in horrified shock. “And there’s no difference between monkshood and wolfsbane. They’re also known as aconite and are used in the Wolfsbane Potion.” She stared around the room, a superior look on her face, “Don’t you lot _read_?”

Finally the void of silence seemed to get to her, as she turned to the front of the room, to see a glaring Snape staring her down. “ _Thank_ you, Miss Granger. Ten points from Gryffindor for interrupting a classmate. Another ten for each question you answered as they _were not addressed to you_. In this classroom, you do not presume to speak without cause. Answering questions intended for another does not constitute cause. _Understood?_ ” A pale Hermione opened her mouth as if to answer, but the petite form of Potter grabbed her by the arm and tugged her back into her seat. Snape glared around the room, _‘This is the girl Dumbledore wants him to befriend? Odd.’_ “Get brewing. You’ll be working on the Cure for Boils.” He caught the faintest flicker of emotion on Potter’s face as Granger joined the rush for the Ingredients’ Storage, _‘What’s he planning.’_

 

* * *

 

Hadrian waited until Hermione and Ron joined the exodus for the ingredients needed, and slipped his hand into his bag, removing a small bag of dark greenish powder. He turned, noticing Neville was distracted, and let a pinch of powder from the bag drift across the room, dissipating into the water already waiting in Ron and Neville’s cauldron. _‘Hope they remember to take it off the heat.’_ Harry relaxed back into his seat, fumbling his tools as he resumed setting up ready for Hermione’s return.

 

Said girl scattered a trio of Pungous Onions before him, before grabbing the mortar and pestle and beginning to grind the snake fangs. “Well? Get slicing!”

Harry winced at the volume, and grabbed his knife in one subtly shaking hand, before beginning to slice the onions as well as his misset bones would allow. _‘I wonder if those brothers of Ron’s would work on commission? A nice spontaneous silencio whenever she starts talking in anything but response to a professor would be nice.’_ A small smirk pulled at his lips as he heard the recognisable glug of a thick liquid being poured into a cauldron from behind him. Harry promptly knocked his knife to the floor, and bent over to try and pick it up… just as Ron dumped a handful of porcupine quills into the still heating cauldron. However, instead of melting, as one would expect a cauldron to do with that sort of mistake from so basic a potion… instead it exploded, coating the majority of the Gryffindors in a mismade Cure for Boils. Only those intelligent enough to have invested in brewing robes with in-built shield spells remained unscathed, though Harry had the least amount of potion affecting him, due to having had to duck under the table to retrieve his knife.

 

* * *

 

Snape stared in shock, _‘What did they do to irritate the boy already?’_ A snarl at his lips, he strode over to the two guilty looking Gryffindors, “Well? Which of you twits mistook Bulbadox Powder for powdered ginger root? There is a vast difference between dark green and brown. Ten points from Gryffindor for pure idiocy, and another twenty each for injuring your classmates.” His dark gaze scanned the room, if you managed to avoid getting any of this mess on yourself, then pack up and get out. The rest of you… make your way to the Hospital Wing.” He paused, “Potter!”

“Y-yes Sir?”

“Detention for failing to notice Weasley and Longbottom’s idiocy.” His glare swept the room once more, “OUT!” As the children scattered, he met Potter’s eyes once more, _‘Nicely done.’_

 _‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sir.’_ An amused note coloured the boy’s mind as he followed the other Gryffindors towards the door, most of them already in tears from the boils.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voting:  
> Still in running:  
> Nephthys (F) +18  
> Morrigan (F) +15  
> Keres (F) +9  
> Azrael (F) +7  
> Azrael (M) +6  
> Giltinė (F) +6  
> Eridanos (M) +3  
> Eridanos (F) 0  
> Kalika (F) 0
> 
> Turns out Eridanos is also a Greek constellation... annoyed it took me this long to realise that to be honest, so if it fails here, then be aware that it's also on the voting list yet to come up :)


	52. Malfoy's Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...you didn't think Harry was the only one writing to his cousin, did you?

Draco stood outside the Potion’s Classroom staring in increasing levels of shock as the boil-covered Gryffindors made their way out of the room, Theo standing at his side, scanning the text for History of Magic, _‘Bloody Hell, they_ really _pissed him off. Looks like Longbottom and Patil were the only ones to bother to get the shielded robes… lucky them.’_

Weasley snarled as he exited the classroom, little more than a smear of bursting boils, “Malfoy! I know you did this!”

Draco gaped, “You heard Professor Snape. It’s due to a combination between Bulbadox Powder and the fact you failed to take the cauldron off the heat before adding the porcupine quills. If I’d added Bulbadox powder, either you or Longbottom would have seen it, or are you saying I walked across the classroom, dumped something in your cauldron, and walked back again without anyone noticing?”

Granger grabbed his arm, causing a yelp as she put pressure on the boils, and tugged, “Let’s go. Professor Snape said to head to the Hospital Wing if we want these boils gone.”

They disappeared out of sight as Harry stepped through the door, Draco sneered at him, “Potter, lucky timing that you were under your desk when the cauldron blew.”

Harry glared, “What do you want Malfoy?”

“Well…” He drawled, “I was wondering if you had a letter you wanted sent off to your cousin? Remember, I’m only doing this the once.”

Theo stared at him, “Why are you doing it?”

“Haerviu asked me to.”

Harry swallowed, and pulled a battered, partially torn, envelope from his robes, “Here.”

Draco took it from him, looking it over, “Did you borrow parchment from Weasley or something, Potter?” A rip clearly showed in the parchment, haphazardly mended, as it wove it’s way through the address.

“Not exactly.” He glared at the taller blonde, “Well? Will you send it, or not?”

Draco huffed a sigh, “ _Fine_. I have a letter to send off to Haerviu anyway. I’ll slip this one in the envelope, so it doesn’t get lost.”

“Thank you.” Harry gave a grimacing smile, before darting off in pursuit of the disappeared Gryffindors.

Theo turned to look at Draco, “Are you going to send it?”

“I may as well. Haerviu’s hoping to invite his cousin over for the summer if their correspondence goes well. I’d rather not be the reason for it failing.”

 

* * *

 

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table for lunch, a healed Ron wedging him in on one side, and the table edge at the other. “I can’t believe Malfoy got away with it!” Ron grumbled out through a mouthful of masticated potato, “Of course he was the one who messed with the cauldron, who else could it be?”

Harry grimaced as potato sprayed over his small meal of a cheese and ham sandwich, “I don’t know, Ron. Snape seemed pretty sure you just misidentified an ingredient… are you sure Malfoy had something to do with it?”

“Of course he did! I’m not an idiot. I mean, Longbottom, everyone knows he’s just one step above a Squib… but Mum taught me how to identify all the ingredients before I came.”

Harry winced as he saw a red-faced Neville absently dragging his fork through the pile of boiled vegetables on the plate before him, “Everyone knows, huh?” Harry snorted, “Rumours are never as true as they make you believe.” He pulled away from the table, abandoning the rest of his lunch. “I’m off to Charms.”

 

* * *

 

Draco curled underneath a willow tree out by the Black Lake, a sheet of parchment spread on a lap bench before him as he began his letter to Haerviu, intending to send it that night along with “Harry’s”.

 

> _Lievrè_
> 
> _The first week of Hogwarts was interesting. Your cousin made rather a stir when he appeared. He’s the same size as you were when we met, but much more nervous. I hope this isn’t due to the same reasons as your size, as I doubt if the Boy Who Lived were to have gone through the same things as you did, that it would end well for any of us. Dumbledore has been claiming for years that he’s safe and happy, and being trained in the traditional duties of someone of his Lineage, but nothing in his behaviour thus far supports that theory. It’s not solely that he’s small, though that is much of it, but I attempted to give him the formal greeting, and he took offense, shunning me for a Weasley of all things! I know, I know, I was probably rather rude, but still(!) he showed no sign of picking up on why I was acting as I was. I think he saw me solely as a bully! I don’t like it, there’s something going on. I did offer to send you a letter from him as you requested, and it will be included in the envelope with this one. When he passed it to me, I noticed it looked rather torn and ragged, but somehow I doubt this was Potter’s doing… there is something not right in his interactions with his dormmates. Longbottom seems shy but friendly towards him, but from what I can tell, Weasley and Granger are walling him off from the others._
> 
> _In other news, Nott and I are now on first name terms, so if I reference a Theo or Theodore in my correspondence, then it is he that I refer to. The first days of classes went well. I did rather well in Charms and Transfiguration… I would have done better in Potions if Weasley and Longbottom’s cauldron hadn’t exploded. Uncle Sev said they mistook Bulbadox Powder for ground ginger of all things! Talk about a violent mistake. And, since we were making the Cure for Boils, they compounded the issue by forgetting to remove the cauldron from the heat before adding the porcupine quills… I’m sure you can see how that would be a hazardous mistake. Fortunately, the Slytherins had all followed Uncle Sev’s recommendation and worn shielded brewing robes… of the Gryffindors, only two thought to do so. Patil and Longbottom. The others were all coated in the failed potion, save for Potter who was under a desk for some reason. Uncle Sev sent them to the Hospital Wing and dismissed the class. I waited for Potter after class to get his letter to you, so I hope you’re grateful. He’s a confrontational git, even if I am concerned about him. Don’t tell Father I said that, he mentioned something about being understanding… I don’t know why._
> 
> _Potter’s in Gryffindor if you’re interested… the House of the Bold, Brave and Idiotic. I was sorted Slytherin, along with Theo, Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle. I’d rather not talk about the girls, dramatic pests that they are. I’m assuming you’ll want a description, so here goes. Theo’s probably the tallest of us except for Goyle of course, but I would not be surprised if the rumours of that House’s Troll ancestry proved true. He’s about as thin as you are, and is surprisingly good at going unnoticed. A useful gift I suppose. Goyle is a Troll. Remember I described him and Crabbe over the summer? I think he’s got worse since I last saw him. Crabbe too actually… I heard a pair of Hufflepuffs wondering if his parents just transfigured a pig into a boy. Zabini is, if anything, loud. I suppose he has the excuse of Italian Blood… but he’s far more irritating than I anticipated an Italian being. Hopefully he calms with age. Ugh, I suppose I should write about the girls. Greengrass seems like she could be alright, but she’s rather self-absorbed at the moment. And yes, I know you’re going to point out the irony of a Malfoy noticing that, you prat. Parkinson is a bigot, and is still convinced Father is going to sign a Marriage Contract between us… so she’s started trying to suck up. Davies seems alright, but she’s a Halfblood, so she’s trying to go unnoticed for the moment. They’re all curious about you, Zabini thought your House was extinct. House Nott is actually descended from Canute, so it’s possible he has ties to your Mother’s Father’s House if you’re correct in them being a Pureblood House prior to them Squibbing out._
> 
> _How go your studies? Is Lokihús to your liking? I read it’s rather akin to Slytherin in terms of it’s requirements for members? Does your experience support this? Yes, I am aware you’re being tutored and not actually attending Durmstrang, but I assume you’re being taught the School’s traditions anyway._
> 
> _I hope Cybele brings my letter to you on swift wings._
> 
> _Yours Sincerely_
> 
> _Drákon_

 

Draco smiled faintly as he sealed the letter within a spotless white envelope, embossed with the Malfoy Crest, a faint flash of gold magic shone from the join as it sealed his letter and Potter’s within. A smile on his lips, he pressed the seal on the desk, compressing it back into a size he could tuck into his satchel and left in search of the Owlery.

 

* * *

 

The large form of Cybele swooped down upon the perch in front of Draco as he entered the large open tower designated as Hogwarts’ Owlery, “Hello Gorgeous.” He smiled at her faintly, “Do you think you can take this to Count Lecter in Baltimore, America?” He tied the letter to the tag on her leg, “Haerviu doesn’t get Mail Owls at the Estate he’s staying at, so you’ll have to make the delivery to and from his uncle, okay?” At the low hoot she released, he smiled, “Good girl.” She bobbed her head and took off through the open window before him. Draco smiled as he watched her vanish into the distance, _‘Hopefully the system works.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, only a couple more chapters before Haerviu's Owl appears, sorry :(
> 
> The next vote won't be for a little while though.
> 
> ELIMINATED:  
> Kalika (F)
> 
> Voting:  
> Still in running:  
> Nephthys (F) +18  
> Morrigan (F) +16  
> Keres (F) +10  
> Azrael (F) +6  
> Azrael (M) +6  
> Giltinė (F) +5  
> Eridanos (M) +2  
> Eridanos (F) -1
> 
> In other news, the Symbolism for the Wolverine sounds uncannily like the description JK gives of an ideal Gryffindor!


	53. Robertus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...the former Count Lecter receives his nephew's letter.

An old man sat on cross-legged on a cushion before a large pool of water, the trickling sound of the fountain doing little to alleviate his horror-struck mood as he read his accursed nephew’s letter. _‘Mischa had a son? One that Hannibal thinks is enough like him to be willing to take him in… God. What curse lies on the Family that two such monsters sprung from the Blood?’_ He swallowed heavily and picked up the fountain pen resting on the low table beside himself and began to scribe a response.

> _Hannibalas Kazimieras Lecter, grafikas Lecter_
> 
> _Aš gavau tavo laišką, sūnėnas. Aš pritariu jūsų skausmui dėl tavo sesers praradimo, nors norėčiau, kad ji pasiektų pas mus, o dar gyvų._
> 
> _Kalbant apie savo sūnų, aš manau, kad jūs teigiate, kad jis yra panašus į tave, kad jūs kalbate apie jo temperamentą? Tokiu atveju turiu sutikti, kad jūs būtumėte tinkamiausias sūnaus globėjas. Nors turiu prieštarauti dėl jo įdarbinimo Durmstrange. Jis gali būti kraujo lektorius, bet jei, kaip teigiate, jis įrodė, kad yra vertas Vasileios vardo, tuomet mokykla, kuri labai nukentėjo nuo Grindelwaldo rankų, gali būti ne geriausias švietimo įstaigos pasirinkimas vienai iš didžiųjų sūnėnų. Geriausias Grindelwaldas._
> 
> _Kalbant apie jūsų motinos kontaktus, galiu tik pavadinti House Demetriou tik su tam tikru tikrumu. Jos bankininkas gali būti naudingesnė tyrimo linija._
> 
> _Turėčiau jus įspėti, kad Chiyoh greičiausiai lankysis jus vasaros laikotarpiu, kaip manau, kad ji norės susitikti su berniuku. Ar galiu žinoti savo vardus, išskyrus pirmuosius? Haerviu man mažai pasakoja apie savo paveldą savo tėvo pusėje ir norėčiau daugiau sužinoti apie naujausius mūsų kraują._
> 
> _Robertus Vytautas Lecter, buvęs Lecter_

He swallowed, and set the letter and his response aside, knowing his wife would likely wish to read over it prior to posting. _‘I hope young Haerviu is better at keeping his beast at bay. What must he have gone through for it to have shown its face?’_

 

* * *

 

Hadrian slipped out of Gryffindor Tower, his satchel slung over one shoulder. _‘Why do they have to be so bloody loud?’_ He sighed, shaking his head, and made his way through a passage he’d observed the Weasley Twins using, stepping out down the hall from the dungeons a moment later, ignoring his fluro green hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOOGLE TRANSLATE: Meaning, I realise it probably makes zero sense to native language speakers, so I apologise for that. Robertus' letter was in Lithuanian (I hope), here is the intended Translation:  
> Hannibal Kazimieras Lecter, Count Lecter  
> I received your letter, Nephew. I share your pain for the loss of your sister, though I wish she had reached out to us whilst still amongst the living.  
> In terms of her son, I presume when you claim he is much like you, that you are referring to his temperament? In which case, I must agree that you would be the most suitable guardian for the boy. Though I must object to his placement in Durmstrang. He may be a Lecter by Blood but if, as you claim, he has proven himself worthy of the Vasileios Name, then a school having suffered so greatly by Grindelwald’s hands might not be the best choice of educational institution for the great nephew of one of Grindelwald’s best.  
> As far as your mother’s contacts, I can only name House Demetriou with any degree of certainty. Her banker might be a more useful line of enquiry.  
> I should warn you that Chiyoh will likely be on her way to visit you over the summer period, as I suspect she will wish to meet the boy. May I know his Names other than the first? Haerviu tells me little of his Heritage on his father’s side, and I would like to know more about the newest of our Blood.  
> Robertus Vytautas Lecter, Former Count Lecter
> 
>  
> 
> ELIMINATED:  
> Eridanos (F)
> 
>  
> 
> Voting:  
> Still in running:  
> Morrigan (F) +20  
> Nephthys (F) +17  
> Keres (F) +11  
> Azrael (M) +8  
> Azrael (F) +6  
> Giltinė (F) +4  
> Eridanos (M) +1


	54. Mongoose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will catches a glimpse that all is not No-Maj with Hannibal, and Hannibal overlooks the signs of Will's own beast, lurking in the shadows.

Will lay sprawled upon his hotel room bed, sweat stained sheets rucked up around his shuddering form. _‘Fucking Fenrir.’_ A loud knock echoed from the door, and grimacing, Will pulled himself upright to answer it, a glare on his half-asleep face.

“Good morning Will, may I come in?”

 _‘The fuck?’_ , “Where’s Crawford?” Will flicked his eyes to the side to avoid the other man’s gaze, regretting leaving his glasses on his bedside table on his half-asleep trip to the door.

Dr Lecter ducked his head slightly, to attempt to meet Will’s uncovered eyes, “Deposed in court. He had mentioned it would be you and I today.” A smile flickered at the other man’s lips, Will frowned slightly at the remembered echo of higher class classmates it engendered, letting his mostly abandoned magic out to lick slightly against the doctor’s aura. The doctor stood there for a moment, then leant forward, flicking his gaze over the room visible past Will’s immobile form, an amused tone slipping into his voice, “May I come in?”

Will shot his collarbone a glare, before turning and striding back into the room, his magic carrying back a sense of shadows and secrets, but no trace of magic in any of the forms he knew, whether human or otherwise. _‘No-Maj or Squib? His manner is unusual for a No-Maj, even one from the Continent. But none of the Old Houses use Lecter as a name for their Squib cast-offs.’_ A frown flitted across his face, as he sensed his larger companion following him into the darkened room, the screen door creaking in protest as Dr Lecter pulled it shut behind them.

The wooden door creaked in turn as he pulled that too shut, letting his richly accented voice slip into a teaching register, “I am very careful about what I put into my body.” He set a series of porcelain storage dishes on the table, “Which means I end up preparing most meals myself.” He clicked the lid off a dish, rotating it on the plate before him, lifting it off at last to reveal a mix of vegetables, egg and some kind of sausage, “A little protein scramble to start the day. Some eggs, some sausage.” He turned away to remove the lid from his own dish, missing the way Will’s eyes flared briefly gold as he impaled a piece of sausage on his fork.

“It’s delicious, thank you.” Will fixed his gaze on the food before him.

 

 

“My pleasure.” Hannibal reached for a fork of his own, the smug pleasure gained from Will’s words being restrained from appearing on his face, “I would apologise for my analytical ambush, but I know I will soon be apologising again, and you will tire of that eventually, so I have to consider using apologies sparely.”

“Just keep it professional.” Will spoke through a mouthful of food, Hannibal hiding his grimace at the ill manners.

 _‘So relaxed in my presence, did he not recognise what his Magic sensed? Curious.’_ “Or we could socialise like _adults_.” Hannibal bit out, as they continued their meal. “God forbid we become friendly.”

Will hid a smile behind his coffee cup, “I don’t find you that interesting.”

Hannibal fixed his gaze on Will, his voice slipping from his lips like a commandment, “You will.” He paused, letting that sink into the young empath’s mind, “Agent Crawford tells me you have a knack for the monsters.”

Will set his fork down and shoved his plate aside, leaning forward and resting his gaze on Hannibal’s collarbone, “I don’t think the Shrike killed that girl in the field.”

Hannibal gazed at him, curious, _‘Is that so, William?’_ , “The Devil’s in the details.” He leant forward, “What did the Copycat do to that girl in the field? What gave it away?”

Will snorted, “Everything.” He ran a tired hand over his face, “It’s like, he had to show me a negative, so that I could see the positive, it…” A low groan slipped from his lips, as he centred himself, “That crime scene was practically gift-wrapped.”

“The mathematics of human behaviour, and all those ugly variables.” Hannibal returned to his meal. _‘So he does see then. Curious.’_ , “Some bad math with this Shrike fellow. Are you reconstructing his fantasies?” He gave Will a curious look, continuing to the sound of Will’s low chuckle, “What kind of problems does he have?”

“ _Oh_ , he has a few.”

“Ever have any problems, Will?”

Will met Hannibal’s eyes, a trick of the light seeming to make them shine almost golden for a moment as he answered in a near silent tone, “No.”

“Of course you don’t. You and I are just alike. _Problem-free._ ” A smirk tugged at Hannibal’s lips as Will scooped up another forkful of sausage, _‘Prey or Predator?’,_ “Nothing about us to feel horrible about. You know, Will, I think Uncle Jack sees you as a fractured little teacup. The finest china, used for only _special_ guests.”

Will croaked out a broken sounding laugh, “How do you see me?”

Hannibal met silver-blue eyes, watching as sparks of red seemed to shimmer in the iris, “The mongoose I want under the house when the snakes slither by.” A confused frown slipped across Will’s face as Hannibal stared for a moment longer, “Finish your meal please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the monthlong delay in writing :/
> 
> Voting:  
> Still in running:  
> Morrigan (F) +22  
> Nephthys (F) +20  
> Keres (F) +11  
> Azrael (M) +10  
> Azrael (F) +9  
> Giltinė (F) +4  
> Eridanos (M) 0


	55. Detention?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...or Hadrian explains why he so dramatically disturbed the Potion's Class...

Hadrian paused outside Snape’s door, a sigh bubbling up inside his chest, _‘Bloody Gryffindors.’_ The door swung open under the press of his hand, revealing Snape’s frowning form, leaning against the front of his desk, a stack of dusty tomes balanced to one side of his form.

“Shut the door, Potter.” As the door swung shut, Hadrian felt a wave of magic travel over his form, at his silent question, Snape hummed faintly, “Wards. Even the Headmaster would take a minute or so to bring them down.” He fixed Hadrian with an amused stare, “It’s safe to talk, though I would advise remaining in that form so as to limit the risks we take in this endeavour.”

Hadrian smirked, “Understandable, Sir.” He paused, “This won’t be a true detention then I assume?”

Snape snorted, “Not in the way the Headmaster or your Gryffindor classmates would expect.” He paused, “Incidentally, exactly _what_ did the Gryffindors do to induce you to sabotage that potion so spectacularly?”

A dark look swept over the small boy’s face, “Let’s just say Weasley decided that, despite my pointing out why I detest my scar so much, that hitting me with a hair-trimming hex was an appropriate reaction to my refusal to brush my hair out of my face… this of course, took place after he elected to channel the Twins in an attempt to make himself seem _cool_ to myself and his other dormmates.” He paused, cocking his head, “He also attempted to shred the letter I wrote to my _cousin._ ”

Snape let out an involuntary groan, “Then I suppose I should thank you for restraining yourself from killing the fool.”

Hadrian snickered, “He might wish I had.”

“Oh?”

Hadrian blew a puff of hair at his head, disturbing the neon birds nest, “Let’s just say the Twins might be under the impression that ‘ickle Ronnikins’ stole from their prank stash…” He gave a sharp edged smile, “After all… if they didn’t arrange for his dormmates to have their hair supplies switched for Muggle hair dye… and a series of dye bottles went missing from their belongings… _well_.”

Snape snorted, “Ten points to Slytherin.”

“Thank you, Sir.” He sank into the seat positioned next to Snape on the student side of his desk, “If anyone asks?”

“Lines.” Snape passed him a plain black journal from one side of the table, along with the book on the top of the stack, “You’ll be learning the runic alphabet.”

Hadrian shot him a narrow eyed look, “Which one?”

A reluctant smile slipped across Snape’s face, “Elder Futhark.” Hadrian hummed, pulling a fountain pen from an enlarged pocket on the inside of his robes, balancing it easily in his left hand, “I see. Haerviu’s handwriting I presume?”

“Indeed.” Snape pulled an envelope from within one of his desk drawers as he moved back to his own side of the desk, and handed it across to the boy, “I suggest you respond to your letters first. I had a dictaquill mimic your handwriting for the lines. You’ll find it folded in the first page of your journal, along with the crested parchment your uncle provided.”

 

Hadrian let a hum spill from his lips as he slipped open the envelope, already extracting a sheet of the aforementioned parchment, wincing slightly at the battered state of his own letter.

> _Dear Hadrian_
> 
> _Technically speaking, you should address me as Heir Vasileios until I give you permission to use my informal address. Of course, given you grew up in the Non-Magical World, I can hardly hold this against you. So take this as me giving you said permission. Is Hadrian an acceptable address for you? Or do you prefer Harry? I know little about your parents, my mother died when I was young, and I ended up in circumstances that I would rather not discuss. My uncle perhaps can tell you more, but he was young himself when his parents died. If he had contact with your grandmother after this time, he has yet to mention it to me. I can tell you what is mentioned in the texts written about you in reaction to the events of that Samhain, but I can tell you little that you could not attain from other sources. From what I understand, your father was somewhat spoilt as a child, given his status as an only child of aging parents. Narcissa (Lady Malfoy) informed me that he was close friends with my father (Sirius Black) as well as Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew during his Hogwarts years, but Severus (Master Snape), despite having attended during the same period as our fathers, seemed reluctant to speak of them. I suggest you respect his silence. My father is obviously unavailable for you to question as to your father’s personality or life, and Peter Pettigrew is believed to have fallen by his wand prior to his incarceration. Lupin, however, is still alive and free to my knowledge, so you might try reaching out to him. Of your mother, I know even less. Narcissa mentioned her not at all, though I suppose that is understandable, given the Black Family’s stance towards Muggleborns. Perhaps try speaking with Master Flitwick? The books mention she was a charms prodigy, so he might remember her yet._
> 
> _Draco is a dear friend, but yes, he can be a prat. It may be insufficient to say that he is different when around me. He’s been taught from a very young age that to show your emotions and true personality  to those you cannot trust is a foolish thing to do. He sees me as Family, and so I am privileged to see the boy behind the Pureblood Mask._
> 
> _As to the difference between Wizards and Muggles… there is more to that story than I can explain in anything less than an essay. Suffice to say that we were once one People, merely with those with Magic being seen as having skills others could work to attain, but never to the same level. The latter are likely those that are now cast out as Squibs to be honest. But Men grow greedy. Each Nation has their own tale for what occurred. Some say the Non-Magicals began it, others say we did. Regardless, it ended in blood and fear on both sides. The Magicals found a way to hide in plain sight, building our own societies out of sight of Non-Magical eyes, while they sought to burn us from the world. The formation of the Monotheistic religions only served to spur this on._

Hadrian blinked, staring at his letter, “Huh.”

“What is it, Hadrian?” Snape raised his eyes from the essays he was steadily coating in red ink.

“I didn’t know I knew this.” Snape held out an imperious hand, raising an eyebrow in the difference between the neat left-slanted calligraphy, and the messy scrawl resting before the boy. “I mean, I knew that it was probably something like that, but I didn’t _know_ it.”

Snape blinked, “Hadrian, what _would_ I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

“Draught of Living Death, unless you add rose instead of the asphodel, then you wind up with the Briar Concoction.” Hadrian blinked, “I _really_ didn’t know that.”

“I’m not surprised, that’s an extremely esoteric brew, that most Potion Masters have forgotten, given that it requires brewing under a particular seasonal moon.”

“So…”

“This has happened before?”

“Yeah…” Hadrian shifted his gaze away from Snape’s black pools.

Snape frowned down at the page, black scales and red eyes flashing before his mind’s eye. “Does the name Tom mean anything to you?”

Hadrian froze, his voice growing cold and slipping into a hissing register, “How do you know about Tom?”

“You asked me to heal him when I was breaking your binds.”

“Oh.” Hadrian gave him a patently false smile, “He was an imaginary friend when I was little.”

Snape snorted, “If you expect me to believe that, you must have a rather poor opinion of my intelligence.”

“Oh?”

“You’re a psychopath Hadrian. You never had an imaginary friend, or if you did, I highly doubt you would admit to it.”

A cruel smile replaced the innocent one, as Hadrian leant back in his chair, meeting Snape’s gaze once more, “True.” Hadrian shrugged, “Tom’s a part of my mind. I’m not sure if he’s always been there or not, but he’s the one who taught me to read. He used to be a voice in the back of my mind, but as I got older, he got fainter.” Blue sparked it’s way across the green irises, “I don’t know if he’s still there, or what he was, but I owe him a lot.”

Snape stared at the boy, “Mind if I look into that?”

Hadrian shrugged, pulling the letter back from unresisting hands, “Knock yourself out.” He hummed faintly, before picking his pen back up,

> _You may have heard of the Spanish Inquisition, or the Salem Witch Trials. Suffice to say that they were by no means the worst of the horrors our People faced before we withdrew from the Non-Magical World. The reason Purebloods despise the Muggleborns so greatly, is due to a fear that they will demolish the barrier keeping their two worlds from intersecting… not that the Purebloods will admit to this of course._
> 
> _Culture refers to the bits and pieces which make any two groups of people different from each other, so Magic and the ways She shaped our World, are key points of the Pureblood culture._
> 
> _Purebloods are those with Magical Ancestry for the last two or more generations prior to oneself. So, while technically I am a Pureblood due to having nothing but Magicals in my Tree unless you count Mother’s paternal grandparents, the pernicketier Purebloods see me as essentially the Wizarding equivalent of ‘New Money’ due to having a Muggleborn Great Grandfather. You would be classed as a Half-blood due to your mother’s parents being Non-Magicals. Hannibal is a Squib (someone who, while born of a Magical Line, has no access to Magic of their own) and as a result, is almost seen as worse than a Non-Magical in the eyes of the harsher Purebloods. A Muggleborn (or Mudblood if you’re being vulgar) is someone with no Magical Ancestry in Living Memory… or essentially, someone who can’t prove they’re from a Magical Line. A Squibborn, is essentially the same, but can prove descent from a Squib at some point in their Tree… and are recognised by the Lord of said Family, otherwise they remain as a Muggleborn in the eyes of Society._
> 
> _I don’t know my uncle very well yet. We only met recently, and I’ve been away at school since almost that day, but he seems nice. He was horrified to learn what happened to me since Mother’s death. I think he thought she died not long after they were separated._
> 
> _Why did Lucius (Lord Malfoy) need to help you Cousin? If I can do nothing else, I can at least be there for you if you need to share anything._
> 
> _Yours Sincerely_
> 
> _Haerviu_
> 
>  

Hadrian handed the letter across to Snape once more, “Mind sending this through to Hannibal?” Ignoring Snape’s reaction, he reached for another sheet and started his response to Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ELIMINATED:  
> Eridanos (M)
> 
>  
> 
> Voting:  
> Still in running:  
> Morrigan (F) +22  
> Nephthys (F) +20  
> Keres (F) +11  
> Azrael (M) +8  
> Azrael (F) +7  
> Giltinė (F) +4
> 
> Almost time for the Owl to appear, so...


	56. On the Trail of the Shrike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...dun dun DUN! (Sorry, couldn't resist :))

Severus leant back in his chair, Hadrian’s letter to himself already on it’s way to Count Lecter, watching as the strange child composed a response to Draco. _‘First his mental form wanted me to heal a snake whilst within his mind… now it’s sharing information with him?’_ He ran a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose as it slid over his face, _‘Not good.’_  A silent groan spilled from his lips as he watched the perfect posture so at odds with the usual representation of Harry Potter. _‘If he’s possessed, then what does his possessor want? And who is it? Everything that’s been done so far has been to the boy’s benefit… but the only ‘Tom’ with a propensity for snakes to have had access to the boy was the Dark Lord. Helping him serves no purpose.’_

 

Haerviu flicked his gaze up from his letter to the immobile Potion’s Master, _‘Guess he doesn’t know what Tom is any more than we do.’_ He turned back to his letter, having used the first part to share a vague summation of his studies thus far, making sure to stick only to the texts Severus and Lucius had had him read prior to the beginning of term, as well as his response to the main body of Draco’s letter, leaving the more important parts for last.

 

> _As to my cousin. He did mention your father assisted him with a matter at Gringotts. I must confess myself worried Drákon. I know your father would not have become involved if it were not a serious issue… and adding it to your description of him at his arrival… it adds up to a rather unsettling picture. I’ll do what I can to make sure Hadrian is getting the aid he needs, even if I can only be a means for him to vent. He is Family, so I will do what I can. Even if I don’t know what I can do to help._
> 
> _Yours_
> 
> _Haerviu_
> 
> _P.S. What is Slytherin itself like? Your parents did mention the House’s ideals are akin to those of mine own House, but I would be grateful if you shared your own impressions. As to the history of Lokihús, I have yet to learn overmuch of the traditions etc. as I am currently covering the basic knowledge. My Master assures me he will provide me with such information at a later date when I am more versed in what he deems necessary basics._

* * *

 

Hannibal rested in the chair, watching Will with a slight smile pulling at his lips, as the latter scanned through a pile of files before him. _‘Such an interesting little mongoose. I wonder what Haerviu will make of him.’_

A snarl slipped from Will’s lips, “What aren’t I _seeing_?”

“What _do_ you see? Perhaps saying it aloud will be of assistance.”

“Fine.” Will rose to his feet, and started pacing. “He wanted to apologise for Elise Nichols, which we’ve assumed is because the meat was bad, and he returned her… meaning her death was a waste…” His head cocked to one side. “He cares for her, and the others as well most likely…”

“So why kill them?” Hannibal smiled faintly watching him pace, _‘His mind is fascinating.’_ The red in his irises started to rise to the surface as his beast started paying attention more fully to the unusual man before them.

“They’re surrogates. He kills them to prevent himself from killing someone else. But he doesn’t want them to go to waste…” Will froze, “…he’s eating them to keep her close. That’s why we haven’t found any other bodies, he’s making sure nothing goes to waste.”

“Meaning?”

“He doesn’t seem himself as a murder. He’s a hunter.” Will frowned, “There were traces of metal on the body, so he likely works in construction, which supports the kind of physical strength necessary to dismantle a body… so, we need someone known for their hunting, but also with a daughter or close relative of the same age group.” He scowled, “Which is where we were ten minutes ago.”  
“Hardly, Will.”

Will glowered at the seated man, “Oh?”

“Think. He’s in the construction industry, and physically capable. But he has a family, who likely don’t know of his actions. And, as a hunter, and one you’re profiling as somewhat self-sufficient, he likely lives on the outskirts of the town.” He tossed a file atop a stack to his left, “I think that will allow us to narrow our suspect pool down, don’t you?”

Will frowned, pulling the stack closer, “You already narrowed it down?”

“I assumed that if I were a cannibalistic serial killer with a teenager in the household, I wouldn’t want to risk detection as I would living in the town itself. These were the profiles that fit those requirements.” He shrugged calmly.

Will frowned, flicking through the files, “Huh.”

“Hmm?”

“This one quit recently, _To whom it may concern_

_Please accept this letter as my formal resignation. Am per my employment contract, I am giving you 1 month's notice and my last day of employment with your company will be July 26. 2012. I will ensure that all my projects are completed by that date and will be available to assist in any way possible to make the transition over to my replacement as smooth as possible._

_The reason for my leaving is to pursue other opportunities._

_Thank you for the years of employment._ ” Will cocked his head to one side, “Just before we arrived in town actually.”

“Is there a name?”

“Hmm? Oh. Garret Jacob Hobbs.” Will frowned at the file before him, “I might pay him a visit.”

“Want some company?”

“If I must.” Will stood, “Ugh. Coffee first.”

 

Hannibal arched his back, watching as Will left the room, before pulling a phone from his pocket and nicked his finger, letting a drop of blood fall on the runes carefully hidden on the outside of the case, ensuring the security of the call, “Ah, yes. May I speak to your father?” He paused, “Mr Hobbs, listen carefully. They _know_.” He ended the call, a thin smile on his lips, and headed in search of Will. _‘Now, what are you going to do little Mongoose?’_ The reddish taint to his eyes gleamed in the lights of the fluroescents as a catlike, predatory smile pulled at his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voting:  
> Still in running:  
> Morrigan (F) +24  
> Nephthys (F) +24  
> Keres (F) +12  
> Azrael (M) +7  
> Azrael (F) +6  
> Giltinė (F) +3
> 
> This will either be the last, or the penultimate chapter before the owl shows up... so if Morrigan and Nephthys are still tying when I get around to posting the next one, I might just flip a coin. Just a head's up :)


	57. The Twins Learn Of The Incident...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsk tsk Ronald...

“Ron, you _git_!” Echoed down from the First Year Boy’s Dormitory.

Fred pulled his head up from where he and George had been plotting their latest prank, “Wonder what ickle Ronnikins did this time?”

“Dunno.” George gave him a wide-toothed smile, “Shall we find out?” Fred matched his grin and led the way to the stairs, emerging into a dorm room with a trio of angry boys facing down a terrified looking Ron.

“Er…”

The violet-haired boy spun to face him, letting them see it was the Irish one of their brother’s roommates, “Oh, I s’pose yer’re the ones who gave him tha dye?”

Fred stared in shock as the Longbottom hair turned to glare from beneath bright yellow hair, and the third of the dyed boys lunged, pinning Ron to the ground, his black hair tainted with red dye. “Actually… this wasn’t us.”

“Really?” Longbottom stared at them, “Then where did he get the dye from?”

George cocked his head, “You sure it was him?

Fred arched a brow, “He’s almost as useless as Percy.”

“Oi!”

Fred glared at him, “Shut it Ron.”

“Given that Harry left for his detention with Snape with Fluro green hair? Do you really think any of us are stupid enough to hit ourselves with the prank?”  
“Poor Harry.” Fred turned to his brother.

“Hmm.”

“You think?”

“Yep.”

“Then let’s begin.” The twins turned and fixed predatory grins on their brother.

“Thomas, was it?” Dean nodded slowly, watching them warily.

“Ickle Ronnikins is terrified of spiders.”

The mentioned boy paled as he stared at the two demons before him, “Guys, please.”

Fred just grinned, “We’ll be seeing you Ronnikins.”

“Stay safe little brother.”

The twins exchanged devious smirks, and hesitated on their way out the room, “Actually…” George pointed his wand at his brother’s throat, “Sonorus.”

Fred only grinned and yelled, “ _OI_ , PERCY.”

Ron blanched as the sound of their brother angrily rushing down the stairs from his dorm above echoed down… “Bloody hell.”

 

* * *

 

Hadrian paused outside the Portrait Hole, his face stilling for a moment before slipping into annoyance and restrained fury, “Caput Draconis.”  
“You’re late.”

“Snape had me stay longer because of my hair.”

“ _Professor_ Snape young man.”

Harry gave her a faint smile and slipped into the common room to see a plainly angry pair of Weasley Twins waiting for him, along with their elder brother, “Er…” He cringed back, “Hi?”

“Shit.” Twin One swore.

“Hold still Potter.” Harry yelped as the other twin brandished his wand at him and dove behind the nearest couch.

The twins hesitated, exchanging looks, “Um?”

Percy rolled his eyes, “You two are ridiculous.” He turned to the couch, “Potter come out. They’re going to reverse the effects of the dye for you.”

“Oh.” Harry’s head popped up over the back of the couch, “That’s _all_?”

“I don’t think he trust us Gred!”

“You’re quite right Forge!”  
“Well we can’t stand for that!”

“No sirree!”

Harry snorted, “Do you blame me? You’re pranksters and your brother has been hassling me with pranks since I got here.”  
Percy froze from where he stood at the foot of the stairs, keeping an eye out for anyone else slipping down, “What?”

“Um, yeah. He’s been pranking the whole dorm since day one, but me especially. Something about me being his best mate now…?” He shrugged, “I honestly don’t know what he was on about.”

The twins exchanged glances, then turned to their brother, “Fine. Deal with it.” He grimaced, “I’ll write Mum.” He swept off up the stairs, leaving the three behind.

“Right.” Twin One turned back to Harry, “On three?”

“O-okay.”

“One…”

“Two…”

“Pigmento pallide reverti.” The twin flicked his wand and Harry shivered as a wave of cold washed over him.

“Sorry…”

“If it felt…”

“Weird. We haven’t…”  
“Found a way to counter…”

“That yet.”

“It’s fine.” Harry gave them a tentative smile, “Thank you.”

“No problem Harry.” The closer twin ruffled his hair as he squirmed past.

The other grimaced, “Trust us, Ron will be paying for this one.”

“Thank you.” He blinked owlishly at them before running up the stairs himself, _‘These Weasleys are far better than their brother. Odd.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... so I haven't brought the owl in yet. Voting is still open however, but Nephthys and Morrigan are still VERY close. I'm not revealing how close because I'm feeling mean today ;) but I will still count votes up until I finally get around to the next chapter. Have fun :)
> 
> Incidentally, GOOGLE TRANSLATE:  
> pigmento pallide reverti = revert pigment (Latin)


	58. Howler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haerviu's letters finally arrive, and we get our first glimpse of Haerviu's owl...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, it came down to the wire with the Owl's name. It was even right up until noon when the last vote tipped the scale. Sorry to those who voted the other way, incidentally, the winning name had 46 votes for and 17 against, while the second place one had 49 for and 22 against.
> 
> If you elect to Google Draco's Owl, which I recommend because she's gorgeous, make sure you Google WESTERN Siberian Eagle-Owl, as the Eastern ones are much darker.

Draco watched in amusement as the Gryffindor first years closed ranks, preventing the youngest Weasley from joining them. Theo let out an amused noise to his side, “What do you think happened?”

Draco smirked at his friend, “Considering the Twins seem just as irritated as their brother’s year mates, I’d assume he attempted a prank.”

Zabini sneered from across from them, “You’d think if the Twins were annoyed, that they’d prank him.”

Draco snickered, nodding at the far table, where the Weasley brat had finally managed to find a seat at the end nearest the teachers, “You so sure they haven’t?” As his fellow Slytherins and the teachers focused on the suddenly neon-spotted Weasley, Draco arched an eyebrow at a horrified looking Harry Potter, who shot him a wink across the Hall, before turning to face the Staff table as a swarm of spiders emerged from the mound of freshly sliced bread stacked in front of the horrified Weasley, who erupted from the table with a high-pitched scream, followed by many of the first year girls. Draco snorted, “I somehow suspect this is only the beginning.”

 

* * *

 

Harry stared around in puzzlement as his fellow first years quickly absented the table in the face of the spreading swarm of spiders, the older years simply casting a series of barrier spells to keep the spiders contained to the end with the younger years, “Where’s everyone going?” He took another bite of the slice of unbuttered bread he had on the plate before him and stared after his roommates.

Professor McGonagall stormed down from the Staff Table, casting a banishing spell as she went and stopped behind the Weasley Twins, “Well?”

“Wasn’t us Professor.” Twin One smiled innocently at her.

“ _Really…_ ”

Twin Two shook his head, “Nope. Though…”

“…we did do the spots…”

“…just…”

“…not the spiders.”

“Not sure how that happened.”

“I’m sure you can explain it to me in detention this weekend.” She glared at the two boys, “And the spots?”

“Will wear off in an hour or so.”

She huffed, before turning to face the students who’d fled the table, “The spiders are gone.” She glanced at the foodless section where the spiders had been and snorted, “The spiders were illusionary. Replacement food will be on the table shortly after you sit down.”

 

* * *

 

Snape stared as the Gryffindor table dissolved into chaos, _‘Great. He’s still pissed.’_

 

* * *

 

The Gryffindors slowly eased back to the table around the still unmoved Harry Potter, Dean cocked his head at the boy, as Ron made his way far more slowly than his contemporaries, or the female students, “Um, Harry?”

“Yes?” Harry fixed his eyes on Dean’s chin as he turned to face him.

“Why didn’t you leave the table?”

Harry’s gaze rose to meet Dean’s, looking puzzled, “Why? They were just spiders.” He turned back to his food, continuing in an absentminded tone, “My first friends were spiders.” He completely ignored the full body shiver that took over Ron’s form at hearing that.

 _‘That’s a little weird.’_ Dean cocked his head, “They were?”

“Uh-huh.”

 

* * *

 

A loud shout went up from the Hufflepuff table as the morning post swept into the Hall, and they noticed the vibrant red letter being carried by an especially disreputable looking Barn Owl. Harry flicked his gaze at the older Weasley’s and noticed the grimace on Percy’s face, and the expectant grins on the faces of the Twins, _‘Wonder what this is?’_

His gaze slid down to the still form of the younger Weasley as the sudden lack of noise around him drew his attention back away from the food, “Oh no.”

Twin One snickered, “Bullying never pays off Ronald.”

Twin Two grinned, “I think you beat our record for fastest Howler of a new year.”

Harry frowned, “What’s a Howler?”

Neville grimaced, “Kind of like a letter, but well… you’ll see.” The owl crashed into the bowl of oatmeal placed in front of Ron, “You'd better open it, Ron. It'll be worse if you don't. My gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and… it was horrible.”

Twin Two beamed, “They get even _louder_ if you ignore it.”

He gave a beatific smile, as his twin continued, “We’ve been trying to find a way to make them yell in foreign languages…”  
“…but we haven’t worked out all the kinks yet.”

 

So far ignored, the Howler erupted from the table and began to yell: “RONALD WEASLEY. HOW DARE YOU BULLY THE POOR POTTER BOY? I EXPECT YOU TO BE BETTER THAN THE TWINS, AND YET I HAVE TO HEAR FROM PERCY THAT THEY’RE DEFENDING THE BOY FROM YOU? YOU BETTER CLEAN UP YOUR ACT… IF I HEAR ONE MORE REPORT OF YOU BULLYING THAT POOR BOY, I’LL BE COMING TO HOGWARTS TO PUNISH YOU MYSELF. **”** It paused, before pivoting to face the Twins, who abruptly paled, “He steps one more foot out of line, and he’s all yours, Dears.” The letter ripped itself to shreds as the Twins exchanged incredulous looks.

Ron stared at the pile of ash piled on his plate, “WHAT?”

A cold voice spoke from behind him, “Bullying, Mr Weasley? How… _pitiful_. I think a week’s detention with Mr Filch should teach you the error of your ways.” Ron turned to stare pale-faced at a stone-faced Professor Snape, who abruptly turned to face Harry, “However, Mr Potter. Don’t think that this gets you out of detention this morning.”

Harry grimaced, “The hair, Sir?”

“Indeed.” Snape sneered at him, “While I appreciate the attempt at interhouse unity… the only unnatural hair colours permitted are those borne by Metamorphagi students. You are not.”

“Yes Sir.” Snape hmmed but turned back to the staff table as the Twins shot their brother a renewed pair of deadly looks. He was seated just in time to spot a pair of distinctive owls sweep into the Hall. One a large, off-white Eagle-Owl he recognised as his Godson’s Western Siberian Eagle-Owl, Cybele, the other slightly smaller, and a pale sooty grey, with a faint brownish hue to it.

 

Silence once more swept the Hall as the two flew in perfect synchrony, before separating as they reached the pinnacle of their flight, and diving towards their disparate destinations. The pale owl returned to her master, gracefully allowing him to remove the letter bound with a gold and red braided cord. The darker owl landed gracefully amongst the first year Gryffindor boys, fixing Harry with it’s unearthly black stare. Seamus leant forward to stare at it, “Is it jus’ me or does it have Snape’s eyes?”

Hermione scoffed from where she sat nearby, “ _Professor_ Snape. _Honestly_.”

Harry cocked his head, “It does a bit.” He frowned, glancing at the letter tied to the bird’s leg, “Is that for me?” The massive owl stared at him impassively for a moment, before inclining her head and lifting the leg for him to remove the letter. “Thank you.” Harry smiled softly at her as he untied the cord and slipped the letter into his pocket, “Do you mind hanging around for a bit? I’ll need to read it before I can prepare a reply.” He frowned for a moment, “So what’s your name, Lovely?” He peered short-sightedly at the gold tag fastened to her leg, “Nephthys, is it?” He smiled, “May I?” He offered his hand, which caused her to hesitate for a moment before she allowed him to pet her, “It suits you. The winged Goddess of the Dead.” He smiled faintly, ignoring the confused gazes from those sitting around him, along with Hermione’s incredulous look at him knowing something she didn’t, “Wife of Set and Mother of Anubis. The most ferocious of the Egyptian Protective Goddesses.” She shifted, and took off as he let his hand fall away, meeting Draco’s owl once more as they swept from the Hall.

Hermione stared at him, “How’d you know that?” She demanded.

“Know what?”

“The origin of her name? And whose owl is she?”

Harry frowned, “I’d assume she’s my Cousin’s owl, as the letter is from him.” He grimaced, “And I know the name because reading was one of the only ways to avoid my cousin.”

Dean frowned, “If you wanted to avoid him, why is he writing you?”

Harry gave a brittle laugh, “Wrong cousin. My Muggle cousin is the one I try to avoid, the letter’s from my closest cousin on my dad’s side. He’s a Durmstrang student.”

Ron let out a disgusted noise, “I told you he was a Dark Wizard!” He forced through a mouthful of food.

Neville glared at him, “My Gran went to Durmstrang. Just because some of the students went Dark, doesn’t mean they all are.”

Harry frowned, “Wouldn’t that be like saying we’re all Dark because Voldemort’s minions went here?”

“DON’T SAY THE NAME!” Ron bellowed out.

“ _Honestly_ , Ronald. It’s just a name.” Hermione spun to glare at him as Harry successfully distracted them. He grinned at Dean and gave him a subtle nod as he slipped from the Hall.

 

* * *

 

Theo cocked his head at the owl, “Beautiful bird.”

Draco smiled faintly, “Thank you, Genovaitė Isra Lecter brought the original breeding pair with her when she married into House Malfor in the Twelfth Century.”  
Zabini cocked his head, “Malfor? I thought that Line was dead?”

“Sort of.” Draco grimaced, “Genovaitė’s granddaughter married into your House, while her Grandson continued the Line. Helen Pandora Malfor married the Line back to House Malfoy in the late Fifteenth Century, bringing another breeding pair with her. She and her husband died in Fifteen-fifty however, so their twin sons were raised by their cousin, Apollo Lucius Malfor. The elder of the two inherited the Malfoy Lordship when he came of age, though I believe his brother died childless.” He fixed Zabini with a grimace, “The elder brother’s paramour was the Lady Zabini at the time.” He shrugged, “He eventually married a Greengrass, and the Malfoy Line continues from them.”

Warrington gave up on pretending not to be listening, “How do you know all that?”

Draco gave a puzzled look, “Father had me memorise the Family Tree all the way back to the Tenth Century. Did yours not?”

Greengrass stared at him, “I don’t think any of our Fathers expected us to do that.”

“Oh.” Draco shrugged, and sipped his tea.

Theo frowned at him, “What happened to House Malfor?”

“Celeste Perpetua Malfor married into House Demetriou in Sixteen Thirty-Eight.” He frowned, thinking, “And the Line continued through her brother until his grand-daughter who I believe was born a Squib. Not sure where it went from there. Could have diverted back to House Malfoy, which I doubt as none of us have claimed the Title, or it could have gone to Celeste’s son Erinyes Lucius Demetriou, but again, I don’t think he claimed the Title, so it’s unlikely.”

Theo frowned at him, _‘How does he know all this?’_ “And if he did inherit it, where would it be?”

Draco cocked his head, obviously scanning through something in his mind, “Most likely, if it went through the Male Line first, either Potter, Haerviu, or Haerviu’s Squib uncle. If it didn’t, I’m not sure where it wound up, as Erinyes’ sister married Kalika Vidya Singh, and I don’t think they had any children.” He paused for a moment, “Or it went dormant in the Squibline, which again means it’s likely with Haerviu’s uncle, waiting for a Magical to be borne back into the Bloodline, or it went to Haerviu’s mother, so again, Haerviu.”

Theo stared at him in shock, “How many Family Trees do you know?”

Draco hummed, “Most of the ones which tie into House Malfoy since the Fifteenth Century.” He grimaced, “Houses Zabini and Black are a little harder to remember though due to the Black’s propensity for marrying in-house, and the Zabini’s tendency to not wed if the Head of House is female.”

Zabini bristled, “ _Ex_ cuse me?”

“I meant no offence, Zabini, but other than your mother, the last time a female Head of House Zabini wed was before the Eleventh Century. I think that tends to prove my point.”

Zabini arched a brow, “Really?”

“Yeah.” Draco frowned, “I think there were a couple of marriages after that point, but they never inherited the title themselves, it always skipped to their sons.”

Theo frowned, “I thought you said Fifteenth Century.”

“I did.” Draco grimaced, “After she heard me complain about how irritating the Blacks were, Mother made me memorise them and the Zabinis back as far as I did the Malfoys. I don’t think she took kindly to me complaining about her House.”

Greengrass frowned at him, “And yet, you’re friends with one of the possible inheritors of your Family’s Ancestral Title?”

Draco shrugged, “Houses Malfoy broke from House Malfor when we moved here in the wake of the Battle of Hastings. We haven’t expected to inherit the Title since. If Haerviu inherits, we won’t be upset.” He grimaced, “If Potter inherits…” They all cringed, “Though I doubt he will. House Malfor was one of those Houses that hooked the Inheritance to Family Magics rather than Bloodlines.” He shrugged, “Haerviu shows some of the signs of the Magic in question, as does his Uncle from what I’ve heard. Potter does not.”

Theo frowned, “What Magics?”

“Some sort of abnormal Mind Magic. Father wasn’t all that clear. Apparently it’s in the Heir’s Grimoire, which hasn’t been seen since the House vanished.


	59. Threads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...Hannibal spots some clues that Will isn't all he makes out to be, but misses others...

Hannibal climbed out of the car, scanning his eyes across the Hobbs’ house, his nostrils flared as he caught the scent of human flesh _, ‘Interesting. William was correct then.’_ He flicked his gaze to his companion as they moved to start their approach to the house, _‘I wonder what he sees when he looks at me?’_

The door opened as they approached, revealing a tired looking woman, “Yes?”

Will cocked his head, “Mrs Hobbs? We’re with the FBI, we’d like to ask your husband a few questions if that’s okay.”

Hannibal tensed, _‘Nice try William.’_ A hand wrapped around her neck, and she was shoved forwards, as a sharp blade sliced across her throat. Hannibal sank to his knees to check her condition as Will rushed past him in pursuit of her killer. A savage smile spilled across Hannibal’s lips as he watched the light fade from her eyes. He shot to his feet at the sound of multiple gunshots from inside the building, and quickly rushed inside, assessing the situation at a glance. Hobbs lay dead in a pool of blood, multiple bullet wounds visible in his chest. Will knelt crouched over a teenage girl, holding her throat together, blood splattered across his cheek and pooling beneath her. Hannibal sighed, forcibly restraining his monster and crouched next to Will, “Let me see her.” He gently pushed Will aside as he took over first aid. “Call the police, William. We need an ambulance.”

“R-right.” The glint of gold in his eyes faded, leaving the mirrored silvery blue Hannibal was beginning to recognise as his default.

Hannibal let a soft smile cross his lips, before he turned back to the dying girl, _‘Such an interesting little mongoose. Šakalas will be most intrigued to meet him I think.’_

 

* * *

 

Will sat, staring at his hands on the porch, a shock blanket wrapped around his shoulders, as first responders rushed Abigail Hobbs out of the house to the hospital. _‘Why? Why did I kill him? I could have shot to disarm. I could have only shot once. I could have…’_ A low rumbling spread through his head, anyone looking at him would have seen the gold abruptly bleeding back into his iris as his posture shifted slightly. Hannibal frowned slightly as he passed, sensing a strange wild scent in the air. Will grimaced, and forced it back down. _‘No. I am better than that.’_ A low snarl slipped from his lips, _‘I am not a killer. He was going to kill his daughter. I did what I had to.’_ He rolled his shoulders back and fixed his eyes on the shoulder of the medic approaching him, and acquiesced to the check-up he tried to force him to accept.

 

* * *

 

Hannibal sat beside Abigail’s bedside, watching her contemplatively, _‘Such a fascinating little lure.’_ He cocked his head, watching her monitor, _‘Her father killed girls who looked just like her, met when she was on University visits… interesting.’_ Her heartrate picked up, and he took a breath, subsiding into his usual persona, “Ah. Abigail,” He gave her a gentle smile, as he leant back, “My name is Hannibal Lecter, do you remember what happened?” He watched in amusement as the same predatory spark he’d seen in his now nephew’s gaze sparked in hers, _‘Haerviu did a far better job of playing human. Ironic considering his Bloodline.’_

“D-dad had a knife at my throat. T-that man shot him.”

She twitched, reaching for her throat, but Hannibal intercepted her hand, “I would advise against touching your injury for a time, Abigail.” _‘She’s overplaying it. If she wants to manipulate me she needs to work harder. Although… she might be useful to tie Will closer so I can get a better idea of what he is… Haerviu might enjoy playing with her too.’_ “Rest, Abigail. I’ll be here when you wake.”

“T-thank you.”

Hannibal gave her a tight smile, and inclined his head, watching as she drifted back into sleep. He cocked his head at the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside and allowed himself to slide into a subtle doze, knowing it could pass for sleep to those who didn’t know him. His nostrils flared as the door opened, letting him get a whiff of dog and atrocious aftershave, _‘William.’_

 

* * *

 

Will stared at the two slumbering figures, an inexplicable wave of affection spiking within him as he watched. _‘Shit. Not now.’_ He sighed softly, and placed a braided bracelet around Abigail’s sleeping wrist, _‘If nothing else, I can stop her from getting nightmares._ ’ He smiled faintly as he watched her relax into the bed as the enchantment activated. He turned and stepped from the wand, the long-familiar ache settling back into his chest as he closed the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

Hannibal’s eyes slid open as the door shut, and he stared in amusement at the bracelet now on Abigail’s far wrist, _‘Thread Magic William? Interesting. Definitely not a Non-Magical then.’_ He smiled faintly, _‘I might look into the American Magical Families… I’m sure he’ll show up in the records eventually. Thread Magic isn’t something most First Generations learn.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Šakalas - Lithuanian word for Jackal according to Google. Hannibal is using it as a nickname for Haerviu as he sees some of the traits generally associated with the Jackal in his nephew, along with the connection to the Egyptian Death Gods. Apparently the Bible uses it as a symbol for abandonment, isolation and devastation. Hannibal sees this as the foundation for the character his nephew is becoming, just as it was once his own foundation. The Egyptian link is more in lines to his Inheritance of the Peverell Line...


	60. Flashbacks...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...well, he did have a traumatic childhood... his masks have to slip at some stage...

Harry scurried down the hallway, his shoulders hunched up around his ears as he darted away from the Great Hall, _‘Bloody Weasley.’_ He let out a yelp as a hand grabbed his arm, and pulled him into a secret passage as a segment of the wall melted back into place behind him. He let out a low, pained sound, and curled into himself, leaving the arm in his captor’s grasp.

“Bloody hell…”

“…Potter…”

“…don’t freak…”

“…out.”

Harry flinched, darting his eyes upwards not registering the Weasley Twins as one of them finally let go of his arm, “S-sorry.” He rambled, trapped in a flashback, crumpling to the floor, “S-sorry, U-Uncle. D-didn’t m-mean to.” He curled into a ball, his magic coiling tightly around him as the Twins stared at him in horrified shock.

 

* * *

 

George stared at his brother in shock, “What just happened?”

“I don’t know.” Fred swallowed, and crouched down at Harry’s side, “Harry?” He sheathed his wand and slowly stretched out his hand, “You okay?”

“Obviously he isn’t.”

“Shut up George.” He rested his hand on the trembling boy’s arm, swallowing heavily at the flinch the action received, “It’s okay Harry. You’re not in trouble.” He shot George a glare, until his twin finally sunk down at his side, “You’re safe.”

Harry let out a whimper, finally darting green eyes up to meet his, “S-sorry.”

George let out a choked noise, spotting what his twin had already seen and was attempting to ignore as the collar of Harry’s robe lifted, letting them see the scars stretched across his back, “It’s okay Harry. Just breathe.” He met his brother’s eyes with a cold look, smirking harshly at the equally dark look in his eyes. _‘Whoever did this to him better be careful.’_

Harry gave a choked sob, and his green eyes finally focused on theirs, “Sorry.” He swallowed harshly, before pulling himself up to sit.

Fred gave his brother a worried look, “It’s fine…”

“…our fault really…”

“…we did pull you in here…”

Harry cocked his head to one side, Gryffindor bravado back in place, “Why _did_ you pull me in here?”

“We were wondering…”

“…how an ickle Firsty…”

“…managed to find…”

“…one of our hidden passages?”

Hadrian smirked, “What’s the information worth to you?”

George gasped, pressing a hand to his chest in mock pain, “Blackmail!”

“Extortion!”

“Bribery?” Hadrian cocked his head.

“Exactly!”

“Precisely!”

“Exactamundo!” Hadrian coughed, and pretended to check his watch as they continued, leading George to smirk, “Right, little Lion-Snake…”

“…what do you want?”

Hadrian smiled coldly, “Protection.”

“From Ickle Ronnikins?”

Hadrian snorted, “No, I can take care of Moron on my own.” He smiled, “Draco Malfoy did me a favour. I’d like the two of you to mark him out of bounds until further notice.” He gave a sad smile at that, “After all, if not for him, I’d never know I had a cousin. I might not especially like him, but I do owe him for that.”

George gave him a piercing look, “And why aren’t you in Slytherin?”

Hadrian shrugged, “I’m the Boy Who Lived. Why do you think?” He shot them a smirk, before stepping back through the wall and joining the crowd of students leaving the Great Hall.

Fred turned to his brother, “Did that seem odd to you?”

“You mean aside from the fact he didn’t answer our question?”

“Shit.”

 

* * *

 

Hadrian snorted as he wandered off, _‘Nice try Twins. Nice try.’_ He spotted Weasley looking around the hall as he ambled out of the Great Hall doors, and quickly ducked behind a group of second year Hufflepuffs, following as they slipped down to their common room. He smiled innocently as one of them spotted him behind them, and continued down to the dungeons, earning a pained grimace from the Hufflepuff as he deduced his direction.

 

* * *

 

Snape arched a brow as Harry Potter slipped into the classroom, “And why exactly are you so filthy?”

Hadrian sneered at him as he shut the door behind himself, “Weasley Twins.”

“Ah.” He flicked his wand at the door, resetting the silencing wards, “I’ve corrected your previous work. I suggest you read over it before continuing.” Hadrian grimaced, but sat to do as asked. “Your uncle suggested ‘Tom’ might be a result of your Occlumentic powers reacting with your childhood. Would you be willing to let me take another look into your mind when you’ve completed that?”

Hadrian cocked his head, face going blank as he scanned over the other’s features, “Fine. Just as long as you have something to counter the headaches. Tom is rather defensive… not sure if he’d affect a mindprobe, but he certainly hated my _relatives_.” Snape blinked in surprise, but nodded in acknowledgement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nope, sorry no voting opened for the cat yet... sorry. Soon though.
> 
> In case you're wondering... George is slightly less trusting than his brother (Think the Slytherin half of the pair), which is reflected in certain reactions, but only when the POV is someone who can tell them apart. Thus far, that's just the two of them ;)
> 
> Also, Harry does have PTSD (sort of)... but not exactly what a non-magical might have due to his Natural Occlumency working to block off the trauma. He might have occasional flashbacks/nightmares, but he'll likely be less prone to the symptoms than technically normal... not sure as I haven't researched it as thoroughly as I probably should have for this part. Thus, no offence intended to anyone who does have this condition.


	61. Elemental

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...Snape is starting to warm up to Hadrian/Haerviu

Hadrian cocked his head, a soft humming sound slipping past his lips as he made his way through his corrected work, _‘Ah. I mixed up Thurisaz and Wunjo.’_ He glanced at the muttering professor who seemed to be attempting to drown an essay in red ink, “I’ll rewrite my Alphabet then.”

“Good idea.” Snape snorted, “If the essay is on the use of moonstone in potions, then the lunar calendar should be a given.”

Hadrian frowned, “Love potions?”

Snape frowned at him, “I’m not even going to ask how you know that. No, they’re supposed to be explaining the purpose of moonstones in the Draught of Peace.” At the intrigued expression on his companion’s young face, he set the essay down, “What would you expect its effects to be in this recipe?”

Hadrian’s eyes slipped closed as he thought his way through it, “Moonstone is also known as wishing stone… but its primary purpose is tied to its name. It’s linked to the moon, because its role in Healing is generally to bring about balance of the mental tides…” His eyes blinked open, blue flecks appearing in the poisonous depths, “…so I’d presume that it is the primary ingredient for the potion with the others working to stabilise and possibly intensify it?”

“And in two sentences, you’ve proven yourself less of a dunderhead than my OWL students.” Snape’s black eyes fixed on Hadrian’s, “I would be very interested in how you knew that.”

Hadrian smirked, “Thalia’s mother was a bit of a hippy. She taught her daughter all about the different meanings of the gemstones, and Thalia taught me.”

“Thalia?”

“The Greek girl the Dursley’s had supervise me when I was little.” He shrugged, “Moonstone was her mother’s favourite, apparently due to its effects during labour.”

Snape frowned, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Hadrian blinked, showing no other sign of surprise, as he set his quill aside, “A moonstone, properly charged under the light of the full moon, clasped in the hands of the labouring mother is supposed to ease the pains of childbirth.” He cocked his head to one side, “Possibly by easing the tides of the labour pains? I couldn’t say if it’s especially effective, but Aglaia always swore by it.”

 

Snape rose to his feet, leaving a bemused Hadrian behind. He shrugged, and resumed writing out the Runic Alphabet he’d been studying during the previous lesson. _‘Odd.’_ Hadrian finally wrote the last rune out in Haerviu’s careful calligraphy, just as Snape strode back in from his office.

He set a thin journal down before him, “Write out what you know of the different stones and their purposes if you would. I’d be interested to see what uses you can come up with for them to affect the Potions you’re aware of.”

Hadrian smirked, “Any particular order you want?” At Snape’s glower, he grinned, “Right, elemental affinity it is.” _‘If I’m doing this, I’d best start with Fire… bloody belief and its affects. I’d rather start with moonstones… ah well. Amber it is.’_

 

* * *

 

Severus watched as the boy finally set his quill aside once more, “I’ve written out the Fire section. I’ll start the next one next time.”

“Fair enough. Earth or Air?”

“Not Air. Probably Earth.” He frowned, “It depends.”

Severus frowned, filing that away in his mental file of strange things about this child, “Ready?”

Hadrian tensed, raising his vibrant green eyes to meet those of his professor, removing the false glasses from his face, “Go ahead.”

“Legilimens.”

 

* * *

 

_Severus grimaced as he landed back in the void of nothingness the boy had guarding his mind. “This is a bloody horrible first defence.” An amused sensation pressed against his mind as the same familiar door appeared before his eyes. Giving a mental sigh, he stepped back into the library beyond, sneering mentally at the sight of Muggle books stacked around the room, though most were now on the shelves. “How might I speak with Tom then?”_

_“You need only ask, Professor.” The boy he was familiar with as Hadrian stepped from among the shelves, an amused smile on his lips, “It’s easier to pass as Harry Potter if I convince myself that I am he.”_

_“I see.”_

_“No, you don’t.” Hadrian smiled coldly, “But you will. Follow me.” He led his Potions Professor back to the door that he’d found the mental image of the boy locked within on his last visit. Hadrian smirked at his professor, and cracked it open, before sinking into a chair that had abruptly appeared to one side of the doorway._

_Severus sunk into the one on the hinge end, “Well?” The familiar black snake slunk out through the crack, settling himself in Hadrian’s lap, looking just as solid as the one on whom he rested. Impressive considering Severus himself was a ghostlike figure in his mind, as anyone not native to his mind would be. “He’s a part of you then?”_

_Hadrian’s lips quirked up, “You could say that.” The snake in his lap hissed out a few syllables, and Hadrian translated, “He says to ask what questions you will. I can’t hold my mind open for long though, so I’d suggest you hurry.”_

_“How long have you been a part of Hadrian’s mind?”_

_Hadrian winced, “I remember green light, pain and fury. Then I woke up on the Dursley’s doorstep. Tom woke up a few months later, but I felt his presence from about that day.”_

 

* * *

 

Hadrian slipped back out of the classroom some hours later, still wearing the dust from his impromptu trip into the Weasley Twin’s hidden passage. A small smile pulled at his lips as he slipped into the Owlery, “Hello Tychon.” He smiled at the owl as it landed before him, shooting him a filthy look out of piercing yellow eyes, “Sorry, but this letter will be going by means of Nephthys.” He curled up in a corner of the Owlery, balancing a sheet of parchment on his Transfiguration textbook.

 

_Deer Haerviu_

_~~Sory~~ sorry for using the rong name then. Why Hadrian? My names Harry. ~~isnt~~ Isn’t it? Thank you for telling me wat you can. I don’t ~~kno~~ know about writing Lupin… if he hasn’t written me yet, then he mite not want to be written. Draco is defintly a prat. But if hes nice to you, then thats good. Thats why muggles and wizards live seprete? I don’t blame the Purebloods so much then. Whats Monotheistic mean? Isn’t the Spanish Inquistitin when Bloody Mary kept burnign people at the stake? Thanks for defining what Pureblood and the others mean. I wasn’t quite sure. I’m sorry you had a bad ~~chldhood~~ childhood. Mine wasn’t the best either. I mean, it wasn’t that bad. I just got punished a lot. Sent to my ~~cupbo~~ room mostly. Lord Malfoy was helping me find a way to make sure I don’t have to go back this Summer. I don’t know if he’ll manage, but he seemed fairly confident. I think Dumbledore will try to stop it though. He’s the one who left me there. I think he must have a reason. I don’t know what though. Wat’s Durmstring like? I thought Hogwarts was the only school honestly, but I guess that was stoopid. Snape’s worse than Draco honestly. He keeps giving me detention for no reason. Dunno wy. He’s nicer when I’m in detention though. The older Gryfyndoors said he makes you scrb cooldrums, but he just had me writing lines. Wonder if Dumblebore is making him be meen to me? Anyway, thanks for writing._

_Harry Potter, Heir Poter_

Hadrian grimaced as he scrawled the last line of misspelled writing, _‘I bloody hate writing right-handed.’_ “Nephthys? You there?” A low hoot sounded through the room, and the addressed Eagle-Owl landed softly before him. A smile spilled over his lips, “Mind taking this back to Count Lecter? He’s going to forward it on to Haerviu.” She gave a low hoot and stood calmly as he tied the letter onto her leg, “Thank you, Beautiful.” He watched, a soft smile on his lips as she winged her way out through the window.  __ _'Lunch.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HATE writing Harry's letters. The spelling mistakes are really annoying to my brain.
> 
>  
> 
> Right, random question... who reckons Snape should be an animagus? I'm torn, but I know I don't want to make him a bat. I don't think that fits beyond the most blatantly obvious... but I'm not sure what would actually fit him. I know it'll be a mammal though, as I'm with those who think that it's creature blood leading to non-mammalian animagi forms (Blame Of a Linear Circle by flamethrower if you disagree there, but they're rationale makes a lot of sense). So yeah, opinions as to alternate forms? Not a deer, as the symbology doesn't fit, and it would be a MALE animal. Thanks in advance :)


	62. Magical Guardian Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...Kingsley and Dawlish continue to work on Harry Potter's abuse case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short, spent most of my designated writing time trying to organise my plan for the Chamber of Secrets issues. Stupid of me, considering I haven't worked out the Stone yet, but oh well... enjoy :)
> 
> Oh, and Snape's most likely going to be a Black Margay if you feel like googling that :) Most of the votes were for cats of some kind (usually Big Cats, but I thought something stealthier but with the same attributes would be more Spy-like). Margay are sort of like miniature jaguars (about the size of a domestic cat), only with a few additional traits that make them even more deadly proportionately speaking.

Kingsley stared at the papers in his hands, _‘How could his Magical Guardian not know what was going on? Surely they checked on him?’_

A cough caused him to turn his attention to the desk pushed against his, “Alright there, Kingsley?”

He shot the other man a baleful look, “Really, John? How do you _think_ I am?”

“Ah. The, er… abuse case?”

“Yes.” He glared at the paperwork before him, “Gringotts verified the paperwork Lord Malfoy provided us.” He grimaced, “What I don’t understand is why his Magical Guardian never did anything about it.”

Dawlish gave him a blank look, “You said Malfoy mentioned inconsistencies in his accounts?”

“Yes…”

“Well then. If the Magical Guardian was benefiting from the boy’s ignorance, then it’s likely he intentionally neglected to check on him.”

“You’re saying they’re negligent at best…”

“…and complicit at worst.” Dawlish grimaced at him, “Yes I am.” He gave Kingsley a pitying look, “It gets worse too.”

Kingsley’s head hit his desk, “How?”

“I checked the Wizengamot records, well, I mean a very pretty archives assistant checked them.” He passed Kingsley a file, “Here’s the minutes of the meeting that led to the boy’s placement with…” He waved a hand expressively, “and the sealing of his parents’ wills.”

“What?” Kingsley flipped it open.  
Dawlish shoved a calming draught to his partner as he read, “I suggest you drink this before you read that.” Kingsley gave him a confused look, but did as he asked. “I have to say, at least You Know Who was honest about such things.”  
“What?” Kingsley flicked his gaze up to his partner.

“Keep reading.” Dawlish flicked his wand to cast a privacy charm as he noticed his usually calm partner start to lose his composure. “You see?”

“Fuck.” Kingsley stared blankly at the sheet of parchment in front of his eyes, “You’re sure this is real?”

“Positive. The watermark was genuine when I tested it.” He grimaced, “I didn’t want to believe it either.”

“We aren’t going to be able to get this sorted before Hogwarts lets out, are we?”

Dawlish just gave him a blank look, “We’ll be lucky if we get this sorted before he turns seventeen. No wonder Malfoy was so concerned about people believing him.” Kingsley just let out an expressive groan, and slammed his head into his desk again.

 

* * *

 

Lucius gave Grimclaw an amused look, the goblin having summoned him to Gringotts, “Auror Dawlish requested a copy of the records from the Wizengamot meeting giving Dumbledore custody of young Mr Potter.”

The goblin gave him a sneering smile, “They requested the medical records too. As to the point of the meeting, we can’t reach him while he’s at Hogwarts, but he granted you knowledge of his affairs.”

Lucius cocked his head, _‘Interesting.’_ “And this helps us how?”

“It was suggested that requesting the return of funds might be a tad problematic at this time, without revealing certain truths… but an accounting of the vaults in the wake of Heir Potter’s death would be something that his legal Heir would be expected to request.”

“So you want me to pass that information on to Hadrian?”

“As well as advise him to draft his will to ensure that his money bounces to Heir Vasileios, rather than anyone who might be the Default Heir due to his parent’s Wills.”

Lucius gave an amused smile, “I see. I’ll speak to Severus this evening.”

 

* * *

 

Hadrian managed to slip out of the Great Hall before Weasley and Granger found him, a sandwich clasped in his hand, and an apple stuffed in a pocket. Giving a swift glance around, he slipped out the door and made his way around to the back of the Castle.


	63. Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...or Hadrian ticks off Draco again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I'm starting to feel like I shouldn't have stopped taking French. Google Translate is insufficient, and I'm fairly sure I'm picking up grammatical errors, but not sure enough to correct them. Oh, and the partially spoken document mentioned is written out in full ready for when it's needed for the story.

Harry sighed, getting up from his seat in the Gryffindor common room Sunday morning, one of the Twins shot him a puzzled look from where he was doodling on his sleeping-hexed youngest brother with a Muggle pen, “Where are you off to?”

“Detention with Snape.”

The other Twin shot him a stunned look from where he was working on an essay, “You had detention this morning.”

“Yeah, apparently having unnatural hair is rather high on his list of pet peeves. So…” He grimaced, green eyes shooting the sleeping boy a dark glare, “Moron has ensured I have no weekend.”

“Today too?” Granger’s head emerged from the massive tome before her, “Surely he can’t be allowed to do that?”

“Not exactly. I have this afternoon to myself, but Snape gets me for the morning. So I’ll be doing _all_ my weekend homework tonight.”

 

* * *

 

Snape glanced up as his classroom door swung open. “You wanted to see me, Sir?”

“Take a seat.” He motioned towards the plain sheet of parchment and a neat quill placed before his usual seat. “Lucius passed on a message from your Account’s Goblin.”

“Oh?”

“You need a Will. We can’t guarantee Dumbledore hasn’t ensured your death will result in him gaining your estate.”

“Ah.” Hadrian grimaced, “Might be a good idea then, yes.”

“That’s a dictaquill. It’s been primed for the usual Will process by Gringotts. As long as you use a Bloodquill to sign Potter’s name at the end, it will be accepted as valid.” He gave him a small smirk, “Fortunate that your blood still registers as his thanks to that ritual.”

“Indeed.” Hadrian cocked an eyebrow, “Can I leave it to Haerviu, or should I pass the Potter Lordship back into the care of the House of Peverell? Given that I haven’t claimed the Heirship for that House yet?”

Snape cocked his head to one side, “You can name a Steward of the House until such a time as an Heir appears with the right to claim the Title, but that leaves it open for Dumbledore to _find_ an illegitimate cousin to claim it.”

“If I return it to the care of Lord Peverell?”

“The Peverell Lordship is as of yet unclaimed. Has been since not long after the Founding of House Potter.” He grimaced, “Unfortunately, the Dark Lord is also of the Peverell Line, so he could possibly claim the Title… and he’s of the elder of the two remaining Lines.”

“Ugh.” Hadrian leant back in his chair, “Could I leave it to my closest Blood Relative? Technically speaking Haerviu Vasileios and Harry Potter are half-brothers through Sirius Black’s Blood Adoption.”

“And how would Harry Potter know that?”

Hadrian gave a sly smile, “He wouldn’t, but he would know that Titles are a Bloodline thing, which they are even in the Muggle World… and as a result, he would assume that it was the best way to ensure that it was inherited by a Potter, or at least someone who’d respect the Potter Lineage.” He cocked his head, “Magical Blood Relative of course. That would ensure I’d be the preferable choice, as otherwise it would pass to Draco. I might have to reveal we’re brothers technically, but that would be of benefit, as it would allow me to appeal to the Wizengamot more effectively.”

 

Snape held up a hand as a knock sounded on the door, Hadrian quickly sliding his Potions Text out of his bag and over the papers he was supposed to be using. Snape gave him a nod, and addressed the door, relaxing the wards preventing sound from exiting, “Come in.”

Draco slipped in through the door, “Sorry, but I told Theo you’d asked me to speak with you. I can tell him you’re letting me access your library, since you’re my godfather.”

“And why are you really here?”

Draco gave an innocent look, “To mock Potter for landing in detention?”

Hadrian coughed a laugh, pretending to focus on the text before his face, as Snape glared at his Godson, “Really?”

“Why else would I be here?” Grey eyes grew even wider as they met the black pools before him.

“Just take a seat.” Snape shook his head and re-established the wards.  
Hadrian gave his companion an amused grin, slipping the book back into his bag, “You realise I’ll have to tell the Gryffs you were taunting me?”

“Eh.” Draco shrugged, pressing his seat tight against Hadrian’s left side, “At least I get to spend some time with you.” He relaxed slightly as his leg pressed against Hadrian, both their magics settling at being in close contact once again, even if Hadrian’s was still being mostly hidden behind his occlumency shields.

 

Hadrian snorted, “So, we’re in agreement then Severus?”

“We are.”

At Draco’s raised eyebrow, Hadrian elaborated, “I’m leaving the Potter Estates and Title to my nearest Magical Blood Relative.”

Draco snorted, “That’s you still.”

“Yep, and if anyone tries to argue that fact due to our shared parent being a criminal, or Haerviu being a bastard, then it would pass to you.”

“Only if you designate it as Male… otherwise it would pass through Aunt Andromeda’s Line… actually, you might want to mention something about Azkaban to eliminate Sirius, or Dumbledore might fight to have him exonerated, or claim it in his stead.”

Snape blinked, “Good point. Hadrian?”

Said boy sighed, and tapped the quill lying innocently on the parchment before him, “I Hadrian Jameson Potter-Black, Heir to the Houses of Potter and Black do hereby declare this my Will and Testament. All previous Wills are invalidated, and unless any further Wills are verified by Blood and by Magic, so too are they. First, the Title and Estates of the House of Potter are to go to my closest Male Magical Blood Relative, with the proviso that they cannot have been an inmate of the Institution of Azkaban at the time this Will is read (Henceforth to be referred to as my Heir). Second, the Title and Estates of the House of Black which I hold as Heir. If they are mine to pass on, then I pass them to the next Legal Heir of the House of Black. If they are not mine, then let Magic do with them what she will. Of my personal belongings…”

 

* * *

 

Parchment sealed, and sent off through the deposit box to Grimclaw, Draco promptly wrapped Hadrian in a tight hug, “You didn’t need to do that.”

“Set up an alliance to potentially screw up the Light? Or leave to you what I did?”

Draco gaped at him, “BOTH!”

Hadrian snickered, Haerviu very close to the front of his mind now, “I have reasons for my actions, Drákon. Trust me.” He winked, and swung his bag over his shoulder, leaving the room to a flabbergasted Draco and an amused and slightly shocked Snape.

 

* * *

 

Draco turned to glare at his godfather as the door swung shut, “Are you going to let him do that?”

“It’s already done Draco. If that’s his plan, then that’s his plan. I could no more talk him out of it than I could you in his place.”

“Argh! Ce putain de merde généreux! Dans quel monde est-ce un plan rationnel? Je peux comprendre donner les cadeaux des Weasley, mais pourquoi Harry Potter me donnerait-il quelque chose?” He flapped a hand at his amused godfather, “Le présenter à son cousin n'est pas une explication rationnelle, mon oncle! C'est insupportable, arrogant, ridicule, stupide, putain de merde! Argh!” Draco stormed from the room, letting the door slam behind him, his godfather finally succumbing to laughter as the door shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Google Translate:
> 
> “Argh! Ce putain de merde généreux! Dans quel monde est-ce un plan rationnel? Je peux comprendre donner les cadeaux des Weasley, mais pourquoi Harry Potter me donnerait-il quelque chose?” - Argh! That bloody generous twit! In what world is that a rational plan? I can understand giving the Weasley's gifts, but why would Harry Potter give something to me?
> 
> "Le présenter à son cousin n'est pas une explication rationnelle, mon oncle! C'est insupportable, arrogant, ridicule, stupide, putain de merde! Argh!" - "Just introducing him to his Cousin is not a rational explanation, Uncle! That insufferable, arrogant, ridiculous, stupid, fucking twit! Argh!"


	64. Marinating...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...yes, that was a Hannibal pun. I'm not even sorry.

Dumbledore leant over the books stacked on his desk, reading aloud through the letter his contact within Gringotts had finally managed to get to him.

> _Headmaster Dumbledore_
> 
> _Haerviu Vasileios is indeed the natural son of Sirius Orion Black and Mischa Agnes Lecter, the then Heiress Vasileios. I was unable to gain much further information, other than to confirm that custody has been granted to his mother’s brother, one Count Hannibal Kazimieras Lecter VIII. Any further information has been protected in ways I could not bridge._

A snarl passed across the old man’s face, eliciting a smug smirk from the Portrait of Phineas Nigellas Black where he hung watching the man who held his former post, before he promptly vanished in the direction of his Family’s Townhouse to pass the information that their failure of an Heir had managed to tie their House to one of the more notorious of the Lost Houses. _‘Finally, we might have an Heir worthy of the Name of Black.’_

 

* * *

 

Unaware of the portrait’s departure, Albus pulled a bundle of letters from within a warded drawer of his desk, looking for one in particular.

> _Albus, my heart. I know we no longer hold the same views as we once did, but I find myself writing to you regardless. Progress goes apace for the goals we once shared. There are so many willing to fight for the cause, though only a few are worthy of mention. First among them being my Schatten, Cyrus Vasileios. It is not every day that an Heir turns his back on his Family’s beliefs to forge their own way, and that he chose to agree with my course of action only serves to further my knowledge that this is the way. With him comes his werewolf mate, and their close friend Vinda Rosier. The three of them are truly masters at what they do… you should see their commitment and belief Albus. It makes me feel as young and enthusiastic as I was when we first began this path._
> 
> _Yours, now and always_
> 
> _Gellert_

Albus stared sorrowfully down at the letter before him, _‘That poor boy. His father wasn’t even the first time his Family has been destroyed by one of their own.’_ A smile pulled at his lips, _‘With both Sirius and his mother’s uncle as blatant reminders of the horrors of the Dark, there is no way he will fall down that same path.’_ He frowned, pulling another book from the stack to one side, _‘I’m sure I saw Lecter mentioned here somewhere.’_

> **_House Lecter_ ** _, formerly of the Name Laktar, went dormant in 1400 anno domini when the Lord of the House slayed in battle the Betrothed of the Lady Marjolaine Greengrass-LeFay. Said Lady drained the Gift of Magic from her Line in vengeance and used it to place a Bloodline Curse upon the House of Lecter. Until Magic returned to her own Line, no son of the Line of Lecter would retain Magic’s gift for more than a single generation without tragedy striking. As of the time of writing, this curse still dogs the Bloodline, and the Line of Greengrass was carried down the Line of Marjolaine’s brother, whilst the Line of LeFay vanished with her death and her Squib son’s disappearance into the non-Magical World. Prior to this time, House Lecter was known for their devotion to the worship of Setekh of Egyptian Lore. With the loss of the Family Magics however, the Family seemed to join the Christian Faith before they fade from the records of the Magical World with their third successive generation of Squib children._

_‘So, they were a Dark House originally. That could be a problem.’_ He glowered down at the book, before refocusing his gaze to Fawkes, _‘Although, given they’ve been Squibs ever since, and they married into the Light branch of House Vasileios, then they’ll be unlikely to still be Dark. Why would they be when the Dark degrades their very nature?’_ He gave a thoughtful smile, “I’ll have to write to Count Lecter about a meeting. I’m sure he’d be willing to send his nephew here if I speak to him. Harry would do well to have another tie to the Light and the Muggle World, and a Cousin from a Light House, reared in the Muggle World would do just that.” Phineas arched a brow as he slid back into sight, listening in bemusement as the Headmaster continued, “Especially if the boy is young enough to make him feel protective…” He leant back, a smile on his lips as he slipped a lemon drop between his lips.

 

* * *

 

Amelia Bones stared at the two men before her, an opened folder in her hands, “You’re sure of this?”

“As sure as we can be Ma’am.” Kingsley grimaced, “The Goblins verified what came from them, but…”

Dawlish took over, “…it could easily be explained away.” He shrugged, “He didn’t check because he was busy with his other duties… he placed the boy there to protect him from the last of the Death Eaters… he paid them to ensure the boy would be treated appropriately… he trusted the Goblins to manage the accounts correctly, and so forth.”

Amelia grimaced, _‘This is not going to be easy.’_ “Do what you can. Though I expect you to be careful, if what you’re insinuating is true…”

Dawlish gave her a sly smirk, “We’ll be the souls of discretion, Madame Bones.” He inclined his head, and led his partner from the room.

Amelia turned back to the file before her, _‘He was raped and tortured, and we were celebrating his name… I wouldn’t be surprised if the boy hates us… at least Voldemort didn’t allow his servants to torture children.’_

* * *

 

Hannibal smiled faintly as Chopin piped through the speakers, his hands coated in juice as he submerged the thigh meat of a rather rude young bike messenger who’d knocked into him on the street the day before in the white wine marinade he’d prepared. _‘The marbling on this meat is delightful.’_ He cocked his head to one side thoughtfully, _‘Perhaps I should take Will a lunch tomorrow…’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering, Daphne descends from the brother mentioned. Lily Evans is the many times descendant of Marjolaine Greengrass-LeFay and her lover Owain Evans.


	65. Discussion Between Equals?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...or we learn more details of Hadrian's mental snake...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xerox2414 - I realise I just said this would probably take another week or so, but my Muse decided I was taking too long, so...
> 
> It will likely be that long before I post anymore though.

Will quickly bundled up his papers as his class finally filed out of the room. A welling of voices at the doorway caused him to glance up, noticing a cluster of his students vying for the attention of a familiar figure, wreathed in an equally familiar wild scent. His mirrored eyes flickered shut, hidden as they were behind his glasses, _‘What now?’_

Hannibal shot him a smile, and slipped away from the cluster of students, “William, I was hoping you would join me for lunch.”

Will cocked his head, bristling at the assumption he’d agree, “I promised Jack I’d look at a case for him.”

“And of course the case is more important than your health?” A faint smile pulled at the larger man’s lips, as Will glared at him.

“Fine.” Will turned back to his papers, shoving the ones to be marked into his bag to take home that evening.

He turned back to see Hannibal place a small cooler on the desk between them, and pulling a pair of ceramic containers from its depths, lifting the lids to reveal a six inch ciabatta roll in each. “Roasted pork with Jarlsberg, powdered chilli, cilantro and a light lemon dressing in a ciabatta roll.” At Will’s look, he elaborated, “The pork was left over from a meal I prepared last night William. No need to worry about putting me out.” He waited patiently until Will took a bite of the overloaded roll, “Would you be needing any assistance on the case?”

Will sent him a narrow-eyed look, “Jack thinks I need therapy.”

“What you need is a way out of the dark places after Jack sends you there.” An amused light lit up the red-tainted eyes.

“Last time he sent me to a dark place I brought something back.” A spark of interest replaced the amusement as Hannibal subconsciously leant forward slightly. _‘Gotcha. So you see me as an experiment? Shame.’_

“Does it feel like a threat to you William? Or is it more of an aid?”

 

* * *

 

_Hadrian sat in the inner library of his mind, the labyrinth of shelves wrapping around his safe refuge. ~Snape seems to think you’re possessing me.~_

_The black snake coiled at the foot of his chaise gave a hissing laugh, ~As if I need to bother.~_

_~Fair.~ Hadrian’s head cocked to one side, ~How long do you think?~_

_~Indefinite. Dumbledore’s crafted himself as the omnipotent dictator too well. Its likely that you’ll only be able to dent his image, even as Harry Potter’s grieving half-brother.~ A sneer formed on the reptilian face, ~Face it, slow and steady is our only way forward.~_

 

* * *

 

A snarling smile pulled at Hadrian’s lips as he blinked his eyes open, only to be faced with the crimson canopy of his bed in the Gryffindor dorms, _‘Slow… bloody fantastic.’_

 

* * *

 

Red hair glinted in the light as its bearer hunched over the keys of her typewriter, a savage smile distorting an otherwise pretty face. A wall of notes and photographs taken on the Hobbs case scattered the table and floor around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it keeps jumping around, I wanted to focus more on Hannibal/Will interactions, but I felt I needed to address Hadrian's mental passenger some, and Lounds wanted to make her presence known...


	66. Mushroom Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...Will et al take a look at the scene left behind by a new killer, and Hannibal gains another insight into Will's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking of changing the Title to fit the rest of the series better, might be either Groomed by Darkness or Defined by Darkness, opinions?

Will walked into the lab, relieved that Dr Lecter had lingered behind, presumably to report to Jack on the state of his sanity. _‘As if we don’t all know that they see me as a broken doll.’_ A snort escaped him, _‘Pathetic.’_

Beverley flicked her gaze up from the stack of evidence photos she had spread before her, “You say something, Will?”

“Jack’s set the Doctor on my heels again.”

Beverley grimaced, “For Hobbs? Why? I would’ve shot him too.”

Will gave her a wry smile, flicking his gaze up to meet hers momentarily, “You sure? Took me ten shots to drop Hobbs.”

She shot him a decidedly wicked smirk back, “I know. Zeller wanted to give you the bullets he dug out of Hobbs in an acrylic case, but I told him you wouldn’t think it was funny.”

 _‘Really? Give the weird but harmless professor a physical reminder of the kill he made, justified or no? I bet Jack would have been thrilled to hear that.’_ He shrugged, sinking into the seat opposite her, pulling a photograph across to himself, staring at the image of an antler-filled cabin. A flash of anger flickered in the depths of his eyes, hidden from Beverley, as he saw Hobbs’ glaring face staring out of the empty photograph. A huff of breath pulled his attention back to Beverley and their conversation, “Probably not.”

Beverley shrugged, “I suggested one of those clackin' swingin' ball things.”

Will snorted, the darkness in his veins closer to the surface than usual, letting an amused smile pull at his lips, “ _That_ would’ve been funny.”

“Well, duh.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder, and fixed a pompous look on her face, “It was _my_ idea.”

 

* * *

 

Maroon eyes peered in at the two laughing figures, as Hannibal spoke softly to Jack in the hallway outside, “I’m unsure what you think therapy will do for William, Agent Crawford. To my eyes he appears as well-adjusted as he can be under the circumstances.”

Jack huffed out a sigh, fixing the doctor with a worried look, “Will left the police force in New Orleans because he didn’t have the stomach for pulling the trigger! He just pulled the trigger ten times!”

Hannibal arched a brow, “And you expect therapy to work for him? He _is_ a profiler. Therapy only works if you let it, and he’s seen the dark side of the human psyche far too well to accept my meddling with his mind.” He sighed, “He knows all the tricks.” A flick of his gaze back to the tow-headed man bent over the stack of photographs from Hobbs’ cabin, “I cannot promise anything, Jack.” His reddish irises refocused on Jack’s own gaze, “But I will agree to a consultation with him… though I think a series of conversations will be more successful than traditional therapy. Will doesn’t strike me as the type to have much of a support system, perhaps we can create one for him.” _‘And it will give me a chance to get a closer look at how his mind works._ ’

“I suppose you’re right.” Jack ran a hand through his hair, “I’ll ask you to fill in the forms if he’s ready for fieldwork then?” Hannibal gave him a small smile, and inclined his head, making his way out of the building once more, leaving Jack to stare in through the window for a moment longer, a call ringing out on his phone, even as Hannibal turned the corner.

 

* * *

 

Will stared into the grave, “Well that’s new.”

Zeller snorted at his side, “Human mushroom garden? I’d be worried if it wasn’t new to you.”

Will shot him a look, “New Orleans gets all the Crazies, Zeller, but I think Baltimore might be giving them a run for their money.”

Price cocked his head, bent over the grave before him, “Really? Why?”

Hannibal’s smooth accented voice came from behind them, “I would presume the effects of the Voodoo practices of the region? The French have always been dramatic, and their former colonies tend to show that in the most peculiar of ways.”

Will shot him a puzzled look, “Uh, yeah actually.” A grimace spilled across his lips, “I was nearly sacrificed once actually.”

“ _What_?” Zeller demanded.

Will shrugged, bending over a grave further down, _‘What’s wrong with this one?’_ “I was a mouthy little shit as a kid, some old hag of a Voodoo Priestess heard about the way I could pick a man apart with  a look and decided I was the physical incarnation of one of her spirits or something.” A nostalgic smile spread across his lips, “I met my best friend through that at least. Bleiz’s father pulled me out of that mess, and we were inseparable until my, uh, accident.” He ignored the horrified gazes fixed on his back, and rubbed at his side, before staring closer at the hand emerging from the ground, _‘What’s different?’_ His mirrorlike eyes flickered across the grove of graves, before refocusing on the one before him, _‘It’s fresher, but what else? …oh.’_ A cool breeze blew across the uncovered flesh, and Will stared in horror as the hand twitched, “Uh, guys…?”

Jack glared over at him, “ _What?_ We’re busy, Will.” He paused, “Do you have something to lead us to the killer?”

“I don’t know about that, Jack.” Will swallowed heavily, “But I think this one’s still alive.”

“ _What_? Zeller and Price darted over to him, Hannibal grasping him by the arm and drawing him away from the grave, as the two began checking for a pulse in the unveiled extremity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so I understand there's some confusion in why I'm focusing so much on Hannibal and Will. Essentially it's because at the moment, Hadrian/Haerviu is sticking closely to the canon path for him, with only a few minor deviations which I'm trying to keep you aware of.
> 
> Hannibal will become increasingly important to Haerviu's story as Harry Potter dies, hence my attempts to build up the knowledge of his past and actions for those who haven't seen the series. Season 3 of Hannibal and probably the Summer after second year will be the main intersections between the two storylines though (not that season 3 will be during second year, probably more like 5th or 6th), but Hannibal and Will will become more important to Haerviu's main storyline as things progress.
> 
> If anyone has any questions as to what's going on, feel free to ask, I'm happy to explain as far as I can without spoiling too much, and I'd rather not confuse too many people.
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. Metamorphagi, would they be able to manipulate their vocal chords instinctively, or do you think they'd have to work at it? Thoughts...


	67. Braving the Lion's Den...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...or Dodging the Lemon Drops of Doom!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, bit of a sugar rush at the moment...

Hadrian sighed as he rose from his seat at the Gryffindor table, frustrated from the knowledge he would have to wait to implement further plans, and wanting to avoid Snore-on Weasley, _‘Bloody Dumbledore and his Pawns.’_ He turned at the sound of a cough, “Yes, Percy?”

Percy gave him a fond smile, “The Headmaster wants to talk to you, would you like me to show you the way?”

Harry gave him a broad innocent smile, “Yes please!” _‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.’_

“Follow me.”

 

* * *

 

Hadrian stared at the gargoyle statue as it slid aside, Percy having left after giving the password. He gave a soft sigh, and stepped onto the swivelling staircase, reshuffling his mind so that sweet innocent Harry was the only version of himself that would be seen. He paused at the top step and arched a brow at the overbearing feel of the Headmaster’s sickly magic as he raised his hand to knock. “Come on in, my boy.”

 _‘Oh that’s not at all paedophilic, Headmaster.’_ Harry swung the door open, and gave the Headmaster an innocent smile, ignoring the sensation of a mindprobe landing smack in the battered Muggle library he used as a shield. “Morning Headmaster. Is this going to take long? It’s just, I don’t want to be late for class.”

 

* * *

 

 _‘No mindshields at all. Wonderful.’_ Dumbledore gave the boy a kind smile, “No worries, my boy. I’m sure Professor Quirrell will understand.”

The boy gave him a dubious look, “If you say so, Sir.”

“Lemon drop?”

Harry grimaced, “No thank you. I just had breakfast.”

“Oh, of course. Perfectly understandable.” Dumbledore tossed one in his mouth, “Now. Hagrid tells me there was a bit of confusion at the bank?”

Harry cocked his head, looking baffled, “Um. A bit. The Goblins were confused why my Magical Guardian didn’t teach me stuff.” He shrugged, “They did a couple tests, and talked me through the results…”

 

* * *

 

Harry fought not to flinch as he felt the mindprobe dig deeper at that nugget of information, and allowed the edited memory of his results to slip to the forefront, knowing that Dumbledore wouldn’t be looking for alterations at this point, but making sure that Harry didn’t know anything he shouldn’t, so he erased all evidence of anything aside from bequests, and his connections to the Potter Estate, as well as removing any knowledge of the thefts, or marriage contracts, as well as his full name. He felt it linger over the Medical Report, before moving on to scan over his memory of claiming the Potter Heir-Ring. Harry flicked his gaze down to his hands, “I didn’t really understand it all that well though, just told them to make sure everything was as it should be.” He shrugged, shooting Dumbledore a nervous look, biting his lip as he did so, “Then I wandered around Diagon and got my supplies before Hagrid found me.” He pulled the memory of Tychon to the forefront, “And I got an owl! He’s wonderful.” Harry gave a sappy grin.

 

“And what’s this I hear about a cousin?”

“Oh! Hare-view… I mean Haerviu. Oops.” He gave a sheepish smile, and focused on the memory of the first letter from his ‘cousin’. “Malfoy forwarded it to me. Apparently they’re friends.” Harry shrugged, “He seems nice. Apparently his uncle’s a…” He glanced up to the ceiling, trying to focus, “…Squib! That’s it! So, they live in the Muggle world mostly. It’s been nice actually, he’s explaining what he can of our shared Family History, but it’s a bit tricky since he doesn’t know much of the Potter Family History. He’s pretty much just trying to get to know me, I think?” Harry shrugged, “He seems nice though. He’s not mean like Malfoy.” Harry gave a small smile, and felt as Dumbledore finally pulled himself out of his mind.

“Very well, my boy.” He handed him a slip of neon yellow parchment with lime-green ink… matching his robes. “Give this to Professor Quirrell. It will explain why you’re late.”

“Okay!” Harry bounced to his feet, “Nice meeting you, Sir.” He rose to his feet and headed for the door as Dumbledore bent over his desk. He hid his shock as a portrait sharing the subtle curls of his natural appearance, but with Draco’s silvery eyes, shot him a wink, and quickly slipped from Dumbledore’s tower, leaving behind a very self-satisfied Headmaster. _‘Well that was a pain.’_ He rubbed his temples, _‘I hate Legilimency._ ’

 

* * *

 

Phineas leant back in his chair, amused despite himself, _‘That boy is as much a Gryffindor as I am. He’s lucky Dumbledore was too busy reading his mind to wonder why he revealed so little while saying so much.’_ He muffled a snort, _‘So he’s cousin to the Vasileios boy? And they’re in touch… interesting.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a bit more Harry, but no Hannibal. Hope you enjoy, because I'll hopefully be dealing with Hannibal and the Mushroom Man next chapter (Yes I know his name, but I don't feel like using it right now).
> 
> As for why Phineas saw Harry's act and Dumbles didn't, Phineas is used to Slytherins and Blacks most especially, while Dumbledore was too busy reading through the provided memories (which were the only versions 'Harry' was aware of as truth, given Hadrian had locked the rest in the main library) to notice how his questions were being evaded.
> 
> Let me know if you spot Harry or any of the alternates lying though... I'm trying to make it so his Fae heritage stops him from being able to, hence the mind shuffling and bending of truths.


	68. Therapy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will steps into Hannibal's office for the first time...

Hadrian paused outside of the closed Defence Classroom door. He sighed, and raised a hand to knock. The door swung open under his touch, and an annoyed looking Quirrell glared down at him, “Well? W-what d-do you h-have to s-say P-P-Potter?”

Harry gave an innocent smile, fixing his gaze on the Professor’s collar, “Sorry Sir. Professor Dumbledore wanted to see me.” He passed over the nauseating parchment. “I hope I haven’t missed too much?”

 

* * *

 

Voldemort stared down at the boy, confused at the restrained annoyance he could feel wafting off of him. _‘Curious.’_ “N-not at a-all P-Potter. T-take a seat.”

Brilliant green eyes peered curiously up at him, “Thank you, Sir.” He smiled brightly and wandered off in the direction of his fellow Gryffindors.

Voldemort frowned mentally as the Weasley boy manhandled the much smaller boy into the seat next to him. Longbottom shooting him a worried look as he did so. _‘Very curious.’_

  

* * *

 

Will hesitated at the doorway to Hannibal’s office, watching as the Doctor bent over his desk, apparently drawing. “Will you be coming in William?” Maroon eyes flickered up to meet mirror-grey, before Will dropped his eyes to his shoes, “Or will we be having our conversation in the doorway?”

Will swallowed heavily, feeling raw from the harsh night’s dreams, and stepped into the room, “Don’t fool yourself that I’d be here if Jack hadn’t demanded it, Doctor.”

 

* * *

 

Hannibal gave a slow smile, motioning William to take a seat, arching a brow in amusement as the profiler ignored his gesture and instead wandered to his bookshelves. _‘Interesting. He doesn’t want to be vulnerable.’_ Hannibal moved out from behind his desk, intentionally turning his back on the unsettled man, and started sifting through files, listening as William made his way up the ladder to his library. As the footsteps shifted in sound, suggesting he’d stepped onto the landing, Hannibal turned and made his way towards the centre of the room, staring up as the profiler turned to stare down at him.

“What’s that?”

“Your psychological evaluation.” Hannibal gave a faint smirk, watching the man’s posture stiffen as he watched. He flicked his gaze to the file in his hands, and continued, “You are socially functional, and more or less sane.” He looked back up to the younger man, “Well done.” Before leaning forward, and placing the file on the coffee table before him.

 

* * *

 

Will frowned, giving the doctor a curious look and pacing closer on the mezzanine, “Did you just rubber stamp me?” _‘Rather unethical doctor.’_

“Yes. Jack Crawford may lay his weary head to rest knowing he didn’t break you… and our conversation may proceed unobstructed by paperwork.” He slid one hand into his pocket, watching Will intently.

Will frowned, pacing down the balcony, feeling the predator clawing at the back of his mind more strongly now he was alone in the doctor’s presence, “Like I told you before, Doctor, Jack thinks I need _therapy_.”

Hannibal cocked his head, scanning the man before him, “And as I said, what you need is a way out of dark places when Jack sends you there.”

Will’s voice grew sharp, and he stalled in his pacing, “ _Again…_ last time he sent me into a _dark_ place I brought something back.”

“A surrogate daughter?” Hannibal began to mirror Will’s pacing on the floor below.

 _‘Really? How assumptive, Doc.’_ Will blinked and began to move again, as Hannibal returned to his desk.

“You saved Abigail Hobbs’ life. You also orphaned her.” He lifted a stack of files, “That comes with certain emotional obligations, regardless of empathy disorders.”

“Well you were there. You saved her life too.” Will frowned, “Do you feel obligated?”

Hannibal hesitated, turning to face Will and setting the papers aside, “Yes. I feel a staggering amount of obligation. I feel responsibility. I fantasised about situations where my actions might have brought about a different fate for Abigail Hobbs.”  
_‘What are you hiding. There’s something…’_

Hannibal paused, swallowing heavily, “Just as I fantasise about situations where I might have lessened the burden my nephew has so far suffered.”

“You have a nephew?” Will cocked his head, “I didn’t think you the type.” He frowned, registering Hannibal’s discomfort with the continued conversation, “Jack thinks Abigail Hobbs helped her dad kill those girls.”

 

* * *

 

Hannibal paused for a long moment, cataloguing William’s behaviour, “How does that make you feel?”

He cocked his head, hissing, “How’s it make _you_ feel?”

“I find it vulgar.”

“Me too.” William bit out, almost too quickly.

Hannibal traced his fingers along the varnished wood of his desk, as the profiler resumed his circuit, “…and entirely possible.”

“It’s not what happened.”

 _‘Too naïve dear William.’_ “Jack would ask her when she wakes up… or he’ll have one of us ask her.”

Will bristled, “Is this therapy… or a-a support group?”  
Hannibal huffed a laugh, “It’s whatever you need it to be.” He watched as William leant on the railing, “…and Will. The mirrors in your mind can reflect the best of yourself, not the worst of someone else.”

Will frowned, mirrored eyes darkening as Hannibal watched, “So _you_ think.”


	69. The Sanctity of Childhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco Vs. Weasley Round 2?

Hadrian let out a soft snort as he watched Neville trip over his own broomstick, and zoned out, humming slightly as he relived the Defence Class from earlier that day, _‘Definitely a false stutter. Wonder why?’_ completely ignoring as his classmates attempted to one-up each other with ridiculous stories of ‘accidents’ they’d experienced on their brooms. He paused, turning and meeting silver eyes for a moment as one of the descriptions filtered through his distracted state, letting his friend see his disbelieving look, as he returned to ignoring the Weasley brat standing next to him.

 

* * *

 

Draco pouted as Potter turned away from him, leaving Theo to stare at him in muted astonishment, and murmur lowly to him, “Just because you’re friends with his cousin, doesn’t mean he’s going to accept you Draco.”

Draco flinched, turning his attention to the broom at his feet as he murmured back, “I’m aware Theo. I just wish Haerviu were here. He and Potter share enough similarities that it’s painful.”

Theo froze, turning to him, “Like what?”

Draco shrugged, “Green eyes and size really.” He grimaced, as they both ignored the Gryffindors ‘discreetly’ listening in nearby, “Lièvre didn’t exactly have the best childhood, so he’s still on the smaller side for his age.”

Theo froze, meeting grey eyes with a sense of rising horror, but masked it quickly as he replied lightly, “Then it’s lucky he managed to escape.” He grimaced, “No one should suffer that.”

 

* * *

 

Weasley paused in his story telling as he realised he’d lost his audience, “No one should suffer what?” He sneered, “If they were Dark they obviously deserved it, and they must be for you lot to be worried about them.”

Draco froze, turning to face Weasley with a glare that reminded the observing teacher of exactly how the Black’s earnt their reputation, and spoke with a frosty dignity that was all Malfoy, “For your _information,_ Weasley, the individual in question is your _best friend’s_ cousin.” He took a step forward, ignorant of the wave of frigid air emanating from his form, “And if you believe that rape and torture are deserved by _anyone_ especially someone younger that you… then I truly pity your family as obviously Cedrella brought the family madness with her when she was cast out.”

A wave of shock passed through the listening children, the Purebloods stunned that Draco was drawing attention to the Blood shared between the Weasley’s and the Black’s and all horrified by the description of Harry Potter’s cousin’s childhood. Weasley froze for a moment, before turning red and yelling back, “Yeah, well if it were Harry you wouldn’t care!”

Draco let out a cold laugh, _‘Ignorant oaf._ ’ “ _Hardly_. If Potter were treated as Haerviu was, then even _fucking_ Bellatrix…” he glared at the boy as the crowd gasped in horror, “…would pity him.” He paused, “Sorry Longbottom.”

“I-it’s fine.”

Draco gave the boy a short nod, before turning back to his target, a sneer on his lips, “Check the statistics… only two children were targeted by the Death-Eaters.” He sneered, “And yet anyone who studies the practices of warrior cultures knows that the best way to eliminate the enemy is to destroy their morale.” He glared, “Even the Darkest of Families would think twice before harming a child. Only the Blackest of Magics would require that… and even Bellatrix knew better than to delve those depths.” He gave Potter a sharp nod, “Children are _sacred_ Weasley. To harm one is to draw the wrath of Magic herself upon you.” He shook his head, “So to answer your accusation…” A drawl spilled from his lips, “…no Pureblood would condone abuse of a child, let alone what Haerviu has suffered.” He sighed, gentling his voice at the pained expression in green eyes, “So yes, even if Potter were abused, we would do what we could to remove him from that environment.”

He turned, and headed back over to Theo, forcibly restraining the build-up of Magic as he did so, only to stagger as a soft voice spoke over the still hushed crowd, “Thank you Malfoy.” Draco froze, turning to meet a cringing Potter’s gaze, and gave a jerky nod in response.

 

* * *

 

Hadrian mulled over Draco’s statement as Ron began to dictate exactly why Malfoy was lying to the Gryffindors crowded around them, only to be forced to focus as Madame Hooch began to give out her instructions. _‘Nice work sowing the seeds Draco, but that could get us in trouble later. It will be hard to gain respect if they see Haerviu as a victim.’_ A snort spilled from his lips, thankfully muffled in the clamour of the other students as he heard one straw-haired Hufflepuff questioning the Bones’ Heiress about what Draco was talking about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case of the whole Flying lesson debacle from the book, I'm planning on getting there next, but I'm supposed to be on hiatus for real life responsibilities so I don't have the time to track down my copy of the book to alter the scene yet, and my muse decided this was a good cut-off point.
> 
> Oh... and Cedrella is intentional foreshadowing that there are Black's out there beyond Narcissa's generation :) Suffice to say somebody forgot about the Black Tapestry...
> 
> While I would hope that most 11 to 12 year-olds don't know what rape is, I think it's probably safe to assume that the ward of Madame Bones is at least aware enough to be able to explain it to her friends... and probably Hermione has read enough books outside of her age level to know what it is too. I'm fairly sure the average eleven year old has the reading comprehension to read teen level books, which means she should be able to read University Level texts.


	70. The Blacks Investigate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flying lesson... and the Blacks seek to learn more about Count Lecter...

Hadrian snapped his attention back to the others as he joined in the chorus of “Good afternoon, Madam Hooch.” _‘Creature blood? Or partial Metamorphagus? Transfiguration? Those eyes aren’t human natural.’_

“Welcome to your first flying lesson.” She beamed at them as Hadrian fought to keep his attention on her and off of the idiot redhead standing at his side. “Well? What are you waiting for? Everyone step up to the left side of their broom stick.”

Hadrian muffled a snort as they all moved simultaneously, and she continued, zoning out momentarily. _‘This is a waste of time. What does she do with the lefties?’_

His attention filtered back, as she finally got to the point, “…and say _Up_.”

He staggered momentarily as his broom immediately snapped into his hand, feeling a tingle in his magic where they met, and caught Draco’s smirking gaze as his broom mirrored the position. _‘Okay… this might actually be enjoyable.’_ He winced slightly in sympathy of the embarrassment as Neville’s broom ignored instructions, and zoned out again as he waited for further instructions. Instead prodding where the broom bumped thornily against his magic. _‘Potential, but distracting. There’s too many shreds of other magics clinging to it.’_ A matching smirk fought to pull at his lips as Weasley’s voice began to get plaintive as he all but begged his broom, only for him to fail to hastily muffle a snort as Weasley got nailed in the face with a length of hickory. _‘What a_ shame.’

“Oh shut up Harry.”

Hadrian rolled his eyes as he let Harry Potter rise back to the surface, “Maybe if you try to catch the broom?”

 

* * *

 

Draco narrowed his eyes as Hadrian actually let out a sound akin to a laugh, _‘Wow. Haven’t heard that one yet. Real or alter?’_ He shook himself, returning his attention to Madam Hooch as she continued her lesson.

“Now, once you’ve got hold of your broomstick, I want you to mount it. And grip it _tight_. Don’t want to be sliding off the end.” A spark of amusement spilled through her eyes as she flicked them over where Theo was holding his rather tentatively at Draco’s side. She paced alongside the two rows, pausing to check grips, and hesitating alongside him, “Swap your hands over, you’re holding the broom left-handed.”

Draco frowned, “I’m left-eyed Madam Hooch.”

“What?”

“My right hand is my wand hand, but I aim as if it were the other way around.”

“Fine.” She flapped her hand at him as she moved on. “See if I care.”

Theo arched a brow and murmured to him once she was out of earshot, near the end of the row, “And she’s trusted as Flying Instructor?” Draco just gave a subtle gallic shrug as he adjusted his grip back to how he’d had it before she attempted to correct him.

Hooch’s voice rose back into their attention as she retook her position at the end of the rows, “When I blow my whistle, I want _each_ of you to kick off from the ground. Hard.” She paced in a circle, keeping an eye on each of them, “Keep your brooms steady. _Hover_ for a moment. Then lean forward slightly and touch back down. On my whistle. Three two…”

 

* * *

 

Hannibal led William out of the building and turned to lock the door, only for a cold female British voice to rise out of the darkness, “Doctor Lecter?”

Hannibal turned, feeling William tense at his side, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the woman before him and recognised the tailor of the passably Muggle robes she wore, “Actually if this is what I believe it is, then it should be Count Lecter, Miss Black.”

The elderly woman arched one graceful brow, “As you wish.” Her eyes scanned over William’s form, who was now staring at Hannibal in muted shock, “I must admit I did not expect you to know who I am.”

Hannibal replaced the key in his pocket, giving her a cold smile, “I’m sure that even if Narcissa had failed to inform your cousin that I had gained custody of his great grandson, that I would be a fool not to recognise a member of the House of Black when they stand before me. It was only a matter of ascertaining which of you was likely to be the one sent to assess my suitability as guardian of the potential Heir Black.”

William tensed, “Hannibal. Do you need me to stay?”

Hannibal paused, for once able to meet silver eyes with his own, noting that they were widening in concern, “No, William. I should be quite fine. You head home and check on your Pack.” Hannibal noted his tensing on that last word, but let it slide away as William flashed him an uncertain grin and headed to his car.

 

“Well?”

The elegant woman before him snorted, “Call me Cassiopeia Count Lecter. I think you and I are going to be great friends.”

Hannibal smiled, his inner predator preening at the recognition from a predator of a far different face to his own, “Hannibal then, Cassiopeia.” He cocked his head, “Would you be inclined to join me for a meal?”

She paused, and he watched in amusement as a considering look took over her face, “Am I being asked by the Count Lecter or by the Wendigo Narcissa tells me has claimed my nephew as his own?”

Hannibal grinned toothily, shedding the gentile mask that usually hid his actions, as he purred his response, “Both, naturally.” He returned to his usual guise, motioning to his car, “Would you like a lift to my home, or would you prefer a restaurant?”

Cassiopeia tilted her head gracefully as she considered, “Your home is acceptable, Hannibal. I will need to assess the boy’s living conditions regardless.”

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in canon, Cassiopeia doesn't die until 1992. So, I figured why not have her show up to find out how Sirius suddenly has another son... after all, Narcissa is only able to reveal some of what she knows to her Birth Family...


	71. Black Truths...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassiopeia. Hannibal. Dinner.
> 
> What could possibly happen???

Cassiopeia arched a brow as she followed her host into his den, _‘This is more like a home belonging to my House than I would expect of someone living among Muggles. Interesting.’_

Hannibal hung her coat on a hanger in the hall closet and motioned her into the dining room, “You’re fortunate in that I was able to duck home to begin the final stage before my last appointment. I started it this morning.” He gave her a dry smile, “Otherwise you would be experiencing my more usual meat choices.”

Cassiopeia arched a brow in response, gracefully sinking into a seat, “It would hardly be the first time I’ve tasted it.”

Her host raised a brow in response, before stepping back into the kitchen, only to return for a moment with a glass of red wine which her passed to her. Speaking over his shoulder as he returned to the kitchen. “Give me a moment to plate it up, then I will re-join you.”

 

Cassiopeia took a sip of what turned out to be an elf made red, as she slid her gaze around the room, picking up on the subtle hints of his nature woven into the walls of his den, _‘Fascinating. It is a pity there are few of his kind left.’_ A softly cleared throat brought her attention back to her near-silent host as he set a plate before her with a smirk, “La Tête de Veau?” She met his smirk with one of her own, “There are those that would say it is near as horrific a choice as your usual choice of food.”

Hannibal sunk gracefully into his own seat, as he gathered his cutler, “That there are, but I highly doubt the Left Hand of Lord Black cares overmuch about such matters.”

Cassiopeia tensed momentarily, before carefully slicing a piece of the meal before her, “And what gives you the impression that I hold that Title?”

“Aside from the fact that you are the only unmarried member of your generation yet among the living?” Hannibal slid a piece of calf’s head between his teeth, “Lord Black failed to come himself, despite this being about the well-being of his Heir, which suggests that either he is too ill, or there is some matter that he finds more concerning. The latter is unlikely, as Haerviu’s existence could potentially be down to Line Theft, which is a dangerous matter for any Ancient House, but more especially for the House of Black given your Bloodline Curse. If the former, then he has to send someone who he trusts to carry out his wishes.” Hannibal took a slow sip of his own wine as he continued, “Cedrella is disowned, so she was unlikely to be sent, regardless of my status as a supposed Squib. Narcissa I have already met, and she is loyal to the House of Malfoy. Marius was a possibility as he is also a Squib, even if disowned. Cygnus or Druella were possibilities also, but even as a Squib I’ve heard how _dedicated_ they are to the so-called Pureblood Cause. That leaves you.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you think I’m the Left Hand.”

“Doesn’t it?” Hannibal arched a brow, “To be the Left Hand of a House, even the House of Black, you need to be able to slide between the levels of class. You might be as much a Black as any of them, but you’re also well-known as being more eccentric than most, and yet still someone that none can afford to turn away. Who else could hold the Title?” He paused, “And I think it’s blatantly clear why Bellatrix and Andromeda couldn’t hold the Title.”

Cassiopeia raised her glass in a toast, “Well deduced.” She paused, “So why then are you joining in defrauding the House of Black?”

Hannibal paused, “Your word on your Magic to reveal this to none but Lord Black? I wish to protect Haerviu from the repercussions should a certain Goat learn of what we speak.”

 

Cassiopeia paused, staring deep into the maroon eyes before her, recoiling slightly as she collided with Occlumency barriers that should not exist in the mind of a Squib. “Impressive.” She drew a slender black wand from the sheath hidden in the boning of her dress and promptly swore the oath as requested. “Well?”

“I presume you are aware that Lord Black’s grandson adopted a young boy prior to his incarceration?”

“The Potter Heir, yes. What of it?”

“I was called to Gringotts with the promise that I would be able to irk the old goat by assisting a child in escaping his grasp. Said boy turned out to be the grandson of my late aunt. Hadrian Potter-Black.” Cassiopeia paused, a thought beginning to take root in her mind as Hannibal continued, “He requested that I adopt him into my Family so he could have a chance to plot his own path.” He shot her an amused look, “Apparently he perceived the manipulations being laid upon him and wanted an escape. The decision was made to make him the son of my sister, and make use of the secondary claim of paternity your great nephew bestowed upon him.”

“And why not come straight to us? House Black takes care of our own.”

“Aye. But you are a Dark House and thus are watched. Easier if he takes the Name of a Light House as his own and claims to be Sirius’ by-blow. That way he can plan in plain sight with certain parties overlooking him. House Vasileios was the least of the Names he is tied to, and thus the most practical to take at this point.”

“I will be meeting him.”

Hannibal inclined his head, “Hadrian will be vanishing over the course of the Summer. Draco will most likely wish to spend at least part of the Summer with him. If all goes to plan, he should be in Britain over Lammas if you wish to meet him then.”  
“Why not here?” Cassiopeia cocked her head curiously.

“Let’s just say there may be a rather violent fate befalling certain abusive relatives and as the cousin of the missing Potter-Black boy, Haerviu will be observed rather closely. Presumably you would rather avoid such attention. By the end of July it should be safe for him to leave the country for a time.” A predatory smile pulled at his lips once more, as Cassiopeia stared at him in shock.

“And how will you pull that off?”

“Tell me, have you heard of the Chesapeake Ripper?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Hannibal is a cannibal. However not all dishes can be created by cannibalistic means, thus it's likely that he spends at least some time on non-human dishes, and this dish in particular is supposed to be a delicacy in parts of Europe. Not that I ever intend on eating it... veal is not a texture I enjoy, even well-cooked.


End file.
